Bygone Days
The sick sadistic people that torture the kid
Thinking of thoughts to fascinating in sin
Hiding behind a stature of loneliness he hates
A time warp in his chest it elates
Swaying through time with no cause or mentality
He don't want to feel like a congenital abnormality
Piercing his mind with no anesthesia
Mind caught in the lake of amnesia
Grasping towards another minoral fate
Sometimes in this bygone world its too late
Suffering a wraith in his vivacious serenity
So sad and unaware with no amenity
This boy has suffered for a time of days
Like most diverse and beseeching in many ways
But tampered with is his lamp of time
Puppet strings in his head now a mime
The prescription of happiness is a lie
Bury the darkness as a maggot one day be a fly
This is the torture of a teen so young
Now no speech they take your tongue
Its over
Its over
Slit it in his own health
Slayed down for his enlightened death....
Copyright © Patrick Nonnemacher | Year Posted
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