She sang out loud in a room painted with grimy frowns.
To what she thought would be a way out to reach her destined shroud.
In an attempt to suffocate her mind she sings out loud as she slips away into the darkened crowd.
Why do I rhyme my thoughts she said aloud.
Why does it matter only to have some coherent sound?
A tragic reminder that in the end the creativity of the soul is just this measly bound.
Was she the one then that sang out loud or myself that I painfully mauled?
Jump into the waterfall, with an imaginary parachute that could possible break the fall.
Are you running away from what you believed was your chosen part?
But why is it so, when you never were meant to keep it real from this dreadful start.
Naïve as I am, she is who I refuse to change.
To be content within is yet another battle that leaves me estranged.
Take it please, go make up your mind.
To where and how is just another testament to this pitiful kind.
I sit and watch with tears in her eyes as she struggles in her solitude.
So I will sit there alone with her and sing out loud to what she once was.
To what she once was and still could have been, but just to sing is so longing.
This was the song that let herself go.
Like a raging animal lost in the midst of their own basic instincts.
Can she sing out loud again in another tune.
To awaken who she once was from the deep slumber the boulder put her in.
I plead to her for I am trapped.
Sing out loud one more time with a haunting drag.
May peace be upon her, do get out of them tired rags.
For it is only I who needs this song to sing out loud to a child once left behind….
Never stop to think you know what you want, because when you have it, it could be the very thing that torments your inner child in its purest form.