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Chalkboard solitude eats at my mind
My fingers leave scars in the written words
And behind me a herd of sheep cries out
As the remaining words run red
And blood drizzles down the board
My thoughts were abhorred
But my actions were lauded
What a twisted juxtaposition
Mindlessness is a cancer
So critical of every flawed detail
But envious of others despite their ineptitude
And fire could burst from my fingertips
You'd never know it from all the silence
And when I finally turn around
What a surprise it is
To find me alone in the white walled room
Dreaming of yesteryear
But there's paint chipping on the wall
And I dig away at it
And behind the whiteness of the walls
Is a mold that runs deep
That's been festering for over a decade
These white walls are merely a facade
For an ugly truth buried beneath
That bequeaths me with sorrow
And when I turn back around
The chalkboard remains
Without any words

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