Behind The Glass

Each breath of Hearts beat,

Pulse pumping that exquisite venom,

paralyzed through back to spine,

Only thing moving is my fingers and eyes,

Trying to draw attention to the crowd of people,

Being amongst this long less crowd not easy to please,

With the words we speak of from our creativeness some form of art,

Still learning this trade mixing words up even if its for better or worse,

I goes through days where my work is endless my hands grow numb and dry,

As the venom sits inside my veins aching my wrists but I will not give up I continue to write,

Days pass by Years come by as I sit and look out of my window I see life pass me by,

Able to walk-Able to leave but I still sit and dream dream of the things I could of been doing,

If I wasn't sitting here wishing of the things I could have accomplished wasted years I cannot return,

Missed out on most of my Youth because of the lack of confidence I thought I needed Next year will be different,

We all face being scared once or more in our life time but you have to over come then fear will be no more,

Next year I won't sit behind my window I’ll be the one outside of my window,

I promise Myself this,