I’m 26 and I use a pen to try and make sense out of the world.
I suffer the fate of constant misconception
Forcefully following the path of loud discretion
Silently resilient as the four walls suffocate me
My words written in the blood of innocence
They sing the melody of my wistfulness
My heart and mind are in a state of dissonance
As I buckle beneath the cross of my own fickleness – “An Erratic Mind”