Adrift... Poem by Saint Cynosure

Adrift inside a world of madness,
tossed upon insane.
Captive to the fear of lowliness,
smoothed by rougher grain.
Crying for some place to be,
before my end of time.
And that it is of which I say,
stays puddled in my mind.
I have not said a word untrue,
I have not lied by sight.
But something within all I am,
I know is just not right.
Painfully my skin is peeled,
the burn so hard to bare.
Has it is that I scream out,
no one seems to care.
Since a child still to this day,
I dream to see my crypt.
Inside this world of madness,
all of ME's Adrift...