Reflect

And in fact, I'm really

A poertic mastermind.

It's just that, I never

Really had the time

To uhh, grab a pen and record these lines

That just, cloud my mind with words and rhymes.

But, you know, it'd not like I would really mind,

And really, all these poetic thoughts are perfectly fine.

It's just that, you never know what goes on

In this twisted mind of mine,

And I, try to handle it and say that I'm fine,

But if you really listen closely, you could see that I'm lying,

Just trying to hide the fact, that inside I'm dying,

Crying out a silent plead for help,

But who can help me when I'm all by myself?