Infinite Pause

And so feels the boy in such a place,
Alone and awkward to be set in his situation.
The uncomfortable grin that grows on his face,
The violent thoughts he has just in case.
So he sits writing down his ammunition,
To solely get him through the day.

And so he feels alone and he feels awkward,
But this is the game that he alone wanted to play.
Feel sorry for this boy for what he has to say,
When he alone he chose in this way to go forward?
He chose his ways; he chose his future days,

And thus his trembling does not matter,
Does not matter at all.
Let him fall so he can learn to crawl,
Just to get up and fall again,
Again, again, and again,
So he may bring life to this lifeless pen.

And so he regrets through his eyes.
‘What a poor boy’ someone might say,
He is nothing more than consequences,
He is nothing more than the chances given,
This is his way of being driven.

Yet the chances he took and the crashes he caused,
Somehow makes him feel like his life is infinitely paused.
Through a pen he writes his future,
   Through his pen he decides not to see,
      Because if he does, he will see me.