The Wrong Track

Sitting here, I think of nothing.

When I gaze in the mirror, it’s nothing more than a blank expression.

Do you have those moments when you don’t know who you are?

Do you have times of complete obscurity?

I can feel my skin, but it doesn’t feel right,

It feels like a shell of someone else.

Perhaps I’m mad, but I am still me,

That’s what I hope in this world of delusion.

I’m forced to live a life of taxing,

I’m forced to suppress my expressive side.

I’m taken for granted by the world that spins,

But I’m chasing a train heading in the wrong direction.

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