My soul screams what my lips cannot seem to produce in words
A tale of anguish pleading to escape
Searching to materialize before anyone able to comprehend
Reaching beyond imagination to conjure
A vision of pain not yet able to be conceptualized
Suspended in a reality not yet born
While shards of glass
Rip through my heart
Veins pulsing with such
Contempt for my soul
In the eyes of the disbelieving
Beyond my control
Wickedness allows such realizations to turn
Into meaningless manifestations of this world
While life sits patiently on my front porch