Writing a rhyme, biding my time
For a day that will never come
Wasting away, I piddle and play,
And nothing ever gets done.
I sit in this room - my temple of gloom
Writing to you, these poems of sorrow
As I traverse the road to nowhere
In this city of no tomorrow.
Iím trapped in my ways, like a rat in a maze,
Struggling to find the light again.
Lost in the labyrinth of a lonely mind,
Where darkness is my only friendó
Itís time for me to close the circle,
To escape this sedentary cycle;
To rise up from the darkest depths,
Of which my life has spiraled.
So, let this stand as my confession,
A vow to conquer my depression;
To transform unproductive passivity
Into a more positive direction.
To find a new activity,
Perhaps a new addiction;
Whatever it takes to free myself
From this harrowing affliction.