Feeling strange,
All hopes left dangling on a string,
Ready for change,
Waiting for the exuberance it will bring.
Obsessed with the unknown,
Always pondering, contemplating,
So detached, so alone,
Lost in thought, subject to waiting.
Waiting to be lifted,
Completely dejected and broken down,
So fucked up and twisted,
Congruent to a grief-stricken clown.
Spiraling into oblivion,
Forsaken in this deep, vast void.
No place for a romantic daydreamer like me,
No place for my chaos and creativity,
In this world so systematic and self-absorbed,
In this world I will never truly be free.