I am doomed with sanity
But I know that secretly
They do not care
Fair is not a word
That has been said in a very long time
Fair is now a myth, a painting with no color
As a painting with no color, reminds me of my mother
Silent still and plain as I, I cannot speak without a
stutter
When I fast-forward I move to fast,
so I slow down but it won’t satisfy
why is it I can’t be neutral, instead I’m bias through everyone’s
eyes
I can’t resist the fact that they want me to die
But I just keep going on
Not listening to a cry
I’m thrown around beaten
For stating obvious facts to the blind
Is it that I haven’t opened up my own eye
And ignorant to the fact that what I see is a lie
Or am I right and don’t deserve to die
Soon I will be in groups and packs that can state
My own vision without creating weight
But these groups and packs are mythical
I have chosen my own fate
Underneath my skin are people
Screaming and wanting to get out
These people are ideas
I can’t figure out what this is about