Train of thought

The life I live now is not what it seems but to me a mere dream in which I can not escape 

Will I make it out alive or must I strive to get to the next day as I lay on a bed of needles

bleeding the color red as rose peddles float down a stream in which I am the delta the delta

in which the blood gushes they seem to think they understand when in fact they don't

and as I think to myself they truly never will

as I sing myself a lulluby that sends my

soul into rest I will never amount to anything cause I am not the best but

yes the exact opposite

there is no going back

I am on a never ending track

a track in which a train is lost

and as the train so am I

lost never able againto find my train 

my train of thought.