Round and Round I Go

Round and round I go through a vicious circle of life, round and round it goes, cutting me like a knife. Never growing or moving on, always staying the same, frantically searching for someplace to hide the blame. Trapped down deeply inside me lives a lifetime of pain, wrapped up tightly by a towering wall of shame. You won't ever see me when I start to bleed, because a long time ago I was forced to hide that need. It was way back then someone first planted the seed, and as years passed its vines consume me like a weed. You may hear me cry sometimes perhaps even out loud, but still the truths are shrouded by deep and darkened clouds. At times I may try to reach out for a hand among the crowd, but my feelings overwhelm me and I feel that I'm not allowed. Someday I may have an awakening when even my soul will rebel, and I can begin to fight and break through this hardened shell. For now I'm only able to survive and with each moment I can tell, if I get to live or die and awake from this living hell. Round and round I go through the vicious circle of life round and round it goes, still cutting me like a knife.