Wonder if my pen will one day speak to who I cater to,
Writing my pain yet not knowing if that is what I was meant to do.
Back and forth with the idea of running away,
Although I pray, my nightmares haunt me where I lay.
Will this writing be my destiny,
Will I be able to be in peace amongst my family?
All alone in a place where everybody cries,
Crowded by souls who like me did not get a chance to say their last goodbyes.
Will this pain reach the ears of an angel or a lost spirit like mine,
Will this agony finally heal in due time?
But what will I be without my pain,
What would the weather be like without rain?
Could I cope in a world of mystery,
Could I even get anyone to listen to me?
Through this pad could I live my dream,
Will my loud pain eventually turn into a soft scream?
One day will I be able to sleep in serenity,
With a mind and soul as free as a new born baby?
We honor those who battle grief and pain,
So I guess I will keep it because by the looks of it, its my only lane.
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