No nightly tears, can resurrect the friendship that once roamed freely in my soul.
Cold and dead the crystal that once warmed my troubled heart.
Pleasant memories, that once vibrated with life, are now crusted over in brainwashed silence.
Deep inside my shell, where no one else is allowed. Darkness prevails absolute,
all others are demons that plot my destruction, I will not let them in.
In the darkness of my mind, I hide in fear of notice, may no one find me, I know their evil plot.
I am the experiment everyone watches, but I'm not playing along, and so I am hated for it.
Reptilian eyed watchers wherever I go, I pretend I don't see them, so that maybe, I
can slip away again, into this dark shell of nothingness, where I came from before.
Everyone against me, me againt everyone, always the same game, I don't choose not to play,
only not to lose.
Wishing for death, but not the death they choose for me.
If the author is god. let me write my own story, where I am the watcher not the experiment, where
I am the god.
Until then I'll hide in the night, the sun is the light of the sterioscope, where my frozen
breath decieves me,
where my blood lights the screen for all to see me, and to say look isn't that strange?
Make sure you have your gloves on.

by Wilfred Owen Bitner

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