a world figuring out who I am

The boiling feeling, the burn sensation

The dark feeling, the mad sensation

Only noise I heard

No care for them I had

To see no one I wanted

But the faces kept the challenge

Their dignity was non existent

And I hated them for it

They reek to impatience, disorder, and mayhem

They are broken

Or is it something else?

But in the end I wanted, I want, I need

Some sanity and freedom.

From the mind of Cogliostro