Patrick Villareal

Rookie (10/27/93 / Rancho Cucumonga)

A Rhyming Thingy

Laying; staring into the corners of my box room
Ceasing at the slightest sound of movement, only to slowly resume
Letting my mind run as I glance at the bright numbers nearby
Wondering when deaths brother will come taketh me away from where I lie
Waiting, watching, the hour seems endless
But there is no other option nonetheless
Why must I endure this?
Why can't I escape my own mental furnace?
All I can do is lie and wait

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