Free Spirit

Two thousand and twelve, the world is ending…
But my world has ended so many times I’ve lost count

When did my tears get lost in the rain?
Pain makes me feel alive,
Death sounds like peace,
Happiness is a bed of lies

How did a bouncing baby boy become the quiet boy at the corner, turning into a young man who scribbles little testimonials of what the world turned him into,

I go to bed angry with my own existence,
When I open my eyes in the morning I know that God is not done with me
Well, I’m not done either with him
He is the shepherd and I a lamb a his providence and mercy.

My best friend calls my logic irrational but true
My girlfriend says I am man enough behind my hurt
My other girl insists that I am a piece of art
Other people say I’m their mouthpiece of things unspoken, telling tales of their world’s dimension

On me
I am a lie
I am a prisoner of my own
Walking free, Captive of mind,
Whatever you see in me, it’s hopeless.