The fringe pierces me so loudly

Shuttering in convulgence

While everyone stands so proudly.

Underneath this ceiling of blue

No way to reach the outside

Saternine in every hue.

Tasteless thoughtfullness I feel

Aiming for what I used to be: once

Can it be determine; what's real?

Skepticism washing through me,

Cannot name what I truely see.

Cannot name what I want to be.