As the days get warmer, I keep getting colder. Lost the inner motivation to feel confident and bold. Pondering if I'm destined to be old and alone. With a world full of so many people, how could I feel so alone? And with a world full of oxygen, how am I struggling to breath? It's a broken world, and people want to continue to step on the pieces. These scars represent my pain, they are my tattoos from suffering. My trophies to show that I have over come such misery. But they proceed to remind me that the past is real. You'll never get away if you're running from the past, that's why my happiness never seems to last. I want to better the world, change it from grey to blue. But it's so hard when all of the sadness is in you. Maybe one day this rain will fade away, till then I pray for better days.