I’m bored

I want to go out

Sometimes my

thought process

isn’t right

Maybe I’m quietly

going crazy

and no-one

has noticed

I think that things

that aren’t; are

I need to go out

the stares I get

are devestating

Maybe in a way

I’m stronger

than I thought

I was

the bus

will take me

away from

here, but

where I go;

I’m haunted

by visions

of a home

I’ve grown

to feel nothing

but distain for

I can run away

or drive away

but I’m haunted

with thoughts

of home




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