weep and burn

frustrations are common customs
a naive disappointment for some
and may seem safe and a healthy notion
you might bang your head in a wall
or stab your self to death
as you see yourself small and frail
awfully defenseless and fragile
it'll make you recognize how far you are
from your trance
your pain and annoyance
it seem to occupy wherever you hide
and your first words started
as premature as your snooze
everything's jumbled you don't know
how to sort out your thoughts
disturbed, pictures lags your psyche
words in chaos
your tongue is loose
you're disappointed and weak and feeble
the dirt eats every inch of you
'til nothing's left from your flesh.