Escapist-----I'm just a dreamer.

The way it was, Is more than half moulded, Sand has turned to black, No view of a whole, Looks like , To say "I am used to this" Suddenly a hope arises, Just a wind passed, So does it vanishes, Makes the bloody brain to think, Was it you or some illucination, So does the same floor lighten, And to wake up, To say "I Am used to this" Now shall i hug it, Or make a big move, So muddled and the shatters are down, A grin ,a smile so can never it be open laugh, Do i need a pschyo , Or i am over thinking......

A frustation piece, Withered and broken, An amount to gather, Far and away, A lifeless head, Totally shuttered, Confusions hiden underneath, Those hard words, Whorled around, A hanging neck, Looked horrible and suffered, Uncontrolable pain, Longing and hurting, That hard behaviour, Punching and making music, A thirsty gap, Chain of loose words, End of supports, Feels BROKEN and BROKEN....