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I walk the halls a disheartened ghost,
An empty shell, a lifeless soul.
Most days I feels I'm not alive,
A spector forced to watch from up high.
My heart aches with the pain of sorrow,
Everyday I see them laugh and play.
I stand there watching, my spirit broken.
I have lost my hope to live, to carry on.
I spend my days accustomed to the routine,
That has woven itself into my everday life.
Living has become a job, a task of life.
I enjoy very few moments of happiness,
That go unspoiled by the devil's right hand.
My rage, my anger, my sorrow, my life,
Forced to be bottled deep within my being.
Buried among the forgotten hopes of my soul.
I don't see a very happy future for me.
I imagine I will be one of those sad cases
of a soul crippled by my own doing.
I imagine I will be forced to live a life
As an unwanted nuisance to society.