Crossed by a road with steep hills and abrupt bumps, coarse in its terrain, and a sense of despair that despite my best efforts to detain persist and remain
A fork with four paths, and i can’t choose one, do I go where the grass is green or follow the sun
Do I sprint into the woods or stay on the sidewalk and choose not to run
They told me follow the yellow brick road but if all that glitters is not gold then which is the most valuable one
My emotions leave me flabbergasted
My mental state is extremely tragic
The things Ive done in this last month consist of evil magic, building bad habits, and bags filled with children, made of plastic
I should have lasted, but here I stand
In the center of a master plan, either for my doom or demise whichever it may be i’m not sure i’ll survive…
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