A little poem

walking watching the streets shake, this is nerves no it's not an earthquake although that's what it'd take for it to be rational to feel this way.

Time is burning but here I am still yearning to make something of my life before the World stops turning and the lights go out.

This is supposed to be a crazy adventure but still I find it difficult to venture from the start of the road.. My mind is a prison.. My mind is a product of a society that distorts my sanctuary.