I lost my youth in the folds of a scream,
A silent echo trapped in a dream.
The world spun on; its colors bled,
While I was tangled in my own dread.
A thousand sunsets passed my eyes,
But I could not feel the painted skies.
Friends laughed loud in fleeting time,
Yet I was locked in my own crime.
A crime of the mind—an endless fight,
A ceaseless war with no end in sight.
The days were stolen, the nights too long,
A muted voice in an unwritten song.
I watched the summers wilt away,
Their golden warmth turned cold and grey.
Autumn came, and the leaves would fall,
But I felt no seasons, no life at all.
The mirror mocked with its hollow stare,
Reflecting someone who wasn’t there.
A face too young for lines so deep,
A soul too tired for restful sleep.
I tried to climb, to reach the light,
But the walls grew higher every night.
The voices whispered, sharp and low,
“You’re wasting your life, you’ll never grow.”
Each moment bled into the next,
A faded page in a broken text.
The chapters lost, the story erased,
A life unlived, a time misplaced.
I missed the laughter, the reckless days,
The endless dreams in endless ways.
Instead, I sat in shadows’ hold,
As hope grew faint and love turned cold.
Now here I stand, a hollow frame,
No spark of joy, no sense of flame.
My teenage years—a phantom tide,
That slipped away while I just cried.
There is no solace, no lesson learned,
Just ashes of the years I burned.
I stand alone, beneath this sky,
A ghost who never learned to fly.