BRAD’S CRY

BRAD’S CRY

The world has become gray to me,

No distinctions I see,

Just a surrealistic hue,

A desolate view,

Of things that once were,

And of times yet to occur.

I’d sell this soul,

Just to feel whole,

For merely a moment,

Of happiness and content.

But it feels as if I’ve no soul to sell,

It seems as if it burned during years of personal Hell.

Years I’d like to have back,

So that I might have stayed on track.

Instead I strayed,

Became emotionally frayed,

I buried myself alive,

Yet never did I strive,

To stop killing myself day after day.

All I can do now is pray,

That I can be lifted up via fate’s hand,

Rise above the shallow beliefs and begin to stand.

I am lost in a world of reality,

Searching and seeking some sort of clarity.

Someone please color my life,

And help me fight away this strife.

-brad