SydneyT_PsychologicalWars

Thrown out like foul smelling trash, littering our planet. Man can't live on bread alone - No, we need a feeling of acceptance. Rumors of self confidence, Gossip of hope, Wishes for freedom. No, they don't exist. I'm in, or I'm out, No in betweens, no alternatives. I'm A slave. Trapped in a box, with no air holes. How did I get in? How do I get out? It's like I'm stuck in quick sand, always sinking. Up is not an option, there's no way out, I'm Trapped. Where else to go? Where to hide? Who do I talk to when no one is here to talk? Where to escape from this raging war? Deep within, When the world is painted black and white, I can secretly add my own personal rainbow. Custom made, all for me. Deeper within, I have a voice, a choice. Where ideas flow, where creativity shines, and where independence is the law. If the world has no heart can I still have soul? I have to dig deeper To my internal garden of peace. Caring for the clutter of chaos trying to overcome me , like a withering plant, desperately trying to reach for the sun. Suddenly, a multitude of flowers rise from the once cracked and dry soil beneath me. A flood of Peace, Understanding, Tranquility, and Clarity like crashing waves on the shore of hope overwhelms me, The beach of stability not far away now. The earth orbiting, Gravity restored, Sanity recovered. I can be my own psychiatrist, learning to cope with confusion, stress, and the things that I cannot change. Finally- Creativity, my Ideas, Independence- known words, extensively defined. Neatly recycled, and completely reusable. At long last- harmony, vigorously clear. ** || ||
 * Ps y c h o l o g i c a l W a r s || [[file:LA7 Poem #2.mp3]] ||
 * ** Creativity, my Ideas, Independence- unknown words, undefined.