Through encouragement, among those of my friends,
Looking through their mental windows, finally found their place,
And, among all those people who I’d like to meet,
And, among all those people who I’d like to beat,
Among them all’s a great talent for whatever they do best.

And to this day I remember that cold of her white face,
And to this day I remember that cold death that I detest,
And to this day I wonder if my love was worth the price,
To pay God my life instead would be worth the pain.

And from that sadist’s death, what’s there actually to gain?
I did my best and took the test, but again it was all wrong.
That great bruise on my mentality left me dumb, again.
Dumb and bruised, a prisoner within that iron mind.

And with this, a poem, I could sit and sing another song,
But to what would that accomplish? Loneliness is all I’d find.
To fame and fortune, bid it farewell and flush it down the drain,
And from that sadist’s death, what’s there actually to gain?

Please comment, criticize, help me out.