I write a poem; a verse; a page in my diary,

To calm this fire and rage.

Cause there is no soul I trust to let the air out.

I listen to those music; to those rain drops falling;

To that guitar vibrate and sing.

To block the world; to forget the pain…

I listen to those music – so I can dream before I wake up again…

I hide in the dark to cry those sadness out.

Unlike them keeping me locked here;

I let those tears fall – fall…

I led the words I have always wanted to say drip with the tears.

My voice makes no sound

And forms no words to listen to.

The home; the family; the life I was given.

Yes – compared to others I couldn’t ask for more.

But no one’s life is perfect.

Everyone has problems…

Everyone have stories they don’t tell…