A simple raindrop,
running down my face.
Now I realize,
I hate this place.
The world is damp, cold, and dead.
Reflects a perfect image of whats in my head.
It’s been a progression,
but also a regression,
since I took the pills.
They make me human,
they make me live,
And given me free will.
But to take a pill everyday,
seems more like a prison.
Is this really me,
or am I a different person?
So I get off them,
and turn into this nervous wreck.
I feel that I am not good enough,
for the people of the world.
My mind tries to convince me,
that I am better off.
But you, my voice of reason.
Helps me stay on.
