Grow Up

Smoke clouds the room,

ghostly faces appear in the dark.

The never ending sense of incoming doom.

Just urge to leave my mark,

a need to conquer all.

A steady flow of alcohol

and a dash of grass.

Hopeless soul searching for a cure-all.

Swirling in quicksand,

drowning in the hourglass.

Working for nothing,

and afraid to live.

We are all trying to forget we are ageing,

and being held captive. 

We are all prisoners.

Visions blur,

what lies ahead in so unclear.

Unknown caller,

asking if I would volunteer.

Take me far.

Far away from here.