Glass House

I spend my days in a little glass house,
a stone's throw from catastrophe;
it's the only place I've ever known,
although, it never had to be.

See, the others, they have grown,
but I'm still drowning in the stagnancy,
of these feelings I can't control...
the protagonist in this tragedy.

Let's get to the root of the problem,
and carefully extract this cavity;
because it's becoming quite a pain,
the strain, of my situation's gravity.

I'm diving deeper into the wishing well—
this private hell, I made for me;
and only time will tell
if I'll ever find the missing key.

...maybe it wasn't meant to be?

I've got a feeling in my chest,
a heart of gold that lies beneath;
I try to find the rhythm,
but I always seem to miss a beat.

It's critical to crack this case,
and it's no mystery to me.
I'm simply miserable—
and misery loves company.
Written by NewBeginnings
Author's Note
Just getting more crap feelings off my chest. I've been depressed and having writer's block... so, not my best writing, but I'll take it.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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