In the end it was just me and my thoughts,
A painful trap, long after you were gone
I'm stuck with the past and afraid to live in the present.
I'm withheld by my day dreams,
I tried moving out then I remember
what if reality doesn't smile back at me?
what if I'm not welcomed into the world of many?
I spoke with nothing but my ink
and for my thoughts I held them within
my voice couldn't be louder than Marks neither could it be heard by the world at large.
My voicebox dead from crying
my mouth weak and dry
but there's one in me which is every much alive; MY PEN! for this is my passion
I speak aloud in my ink
and this would be read by you wherever you are,
hoping you remember who you once left behind is now a shining light.