Its all a nightmare
i whisper to my self...

And the darkness over comes me
and all the hard things in life...

Something isn't right
i can feel it inside...

All i do is watch
because theres nothing else i have got...

Every morning i wake up to screaming
and everyday i keep on dreaming...

Wake up in a empty room
in for another day...

Young or old
Living on the streets...

This poem is dedicated to my dead grandma who is...
I remember it clearly...

Sometimes I wish
God had given me a special gift...

Never felt this way
this time i said it was different...

And the inner voice
takes over me...

When you think about him all day
and you cant help but wonder...