hours of something

It's been quite a while since I posted something. I wrote this recently about what I'm basically feeling in a more metaphoric matter pretty much...


Hours of fantasy and weekends of thoughts

Of how or if I will ever be

Each morning on sunrise I still feel the same

I think "Is this what I want or is there something else more?"
It's a war in my head

It's a weight on my back

It's a strong state of balance just to see through the cracks to a whole different world

It's a world with a princess with the most perfect heart

Where there's happiness growing

There's nothing to fear

Except never quite knowing where I could start

Then the second I think I might of figured it out

Life hits me again and I can't find my way out

It's lonely and cold with nothing around but the thoughts in my mind and my feet on the ground

I feel like there's a moral but it still seems so unclear

Though I tell this poem everyday, the passion disappears