p.111

these are daylight dreams that
I act out
I murmur to a nonexistent sight
budding frustration makes me want to shout
these crystal balls do not show me
the light
what that damn looking glass
gives me is mist. the future just
seems so grey at this time. and I
can’t do much but clench my fist, or
write down some lines in a book of
rhyme. these fantasies cloud my day
and they tell me I don’t want to be
here. I no longer wish to live in fear.
I cannot wait til the day I’m gone.
for I will enjoy that days brand
new dawn.

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