Trapped in a room with everybody I let down,
There faces imprinted on all the walls that I stand around,
I hear there voices echo in every direction,
I feel there disappointment when I see my reflection,
Sometimes I wounder what is the cause of my disconnection,
With reality, I'm in search of the correction,
Some days I can't help i wake and feel neglected,
If regret was a job, its checks I have once collected,
Some days days I feel like my creativity is being arrested,
And further more suspected, of being my downfall,
Once incarcerated,my mind won't grant my creativity its phone call,
My mind says "who the fuck are you going to call?",
My mind takes out all of its hostility,
It says,"nobody wants to hear any of the shit you have to say" ,
It says, "you stupid motherfucker your why we I don't fit in with society, your the reason why the family, thinks Less of me!",
They say, "he's so brilliant, he just should have gone to college, as we speak he could have been a business man raking in the dollars",
Regret has my Vision impaired, everything I see is red,
Some days I wish that I was never even born instead,
That's how regret will make you feel after it tells you, "your never ever gunna make it",
If depression was a class, unfortunately I would ace it,
Some days I wish life was found in a store, so mine I can just go an replace it,
This is what poured out when she asked me "why is that how you feel",
This is my reply, although it seems so unreal,
This is how I feel, I feel sidetracked and derailed, like my hearts been impaled, by an arrow that's tip is sorrow filled,
Is this my life is the question I'm steadily asking,
Stuck in the struggle, while beautifully multitasking,
In pursuit of progression, while ripping off the masking,
Tape off my eyes, REGRET, I could almost see past him,
But the pursuit is taking its toll, my frame beginning to slim,
Being consumed by the hunger from within,
That's only found in the chosen few, destined to change their environment from within with a pencil or a pen,
A place where the the majority survive but the select few strive,
For greatness by all means,
But like I said, some days I'm sidetracked, I can't explain it, perhaps I'm mentally ill,
Cus some days I don't feel loved at all, and that shit is ill,
Some days I feel like a failure and that shit is ill,
Some days I wake up with a heavy heart, like I let depression fill,
It with cement!
Some days I wonder is phrase really that important,
If it is, to get it from my loved ones, I refuse to extort them,
That's a method I would never resort to,it just wouldn't feel the same if they were forced to,
This is where I reside,the place that I feel threatened is demise,
Welcome to the land where regret makes it rain acid from the sky's,
If I look up to complain it will burn my eyes,
Indecision runs ramped, an the streets scream why....Why....WHY!!!!....