I sometimes think that I am in the underworld
Of the forgotten, left behind.
Sitting, looking. . . trying to find myself in a lost world,
Looking for something that isn't out there.
I am a man that looks at things in a unhallowed state.
I look at myself sometimes to think that I am unfounded.
I sit and think of things sometimes to see that I am unfriended;
To think that I am non existing. . .
I talk some of the time to only be unheard,
So why do I try to talk at all?. . .
It's a question that is to be unanswered.
To feel unwanted, is to feel unhesitating to the world that looks at me;
To view me in a different light, but know that light has no meaning.
I am a man that can live on and be undamaged.
I am a puzzle to be put together. . .
I am Mystery…