Me and My Counted Days

the air surrounding me
following me, stalking me.
It is not ordinary or spectacular
but dull and sticky, with a twisted
sense of reality that makes
my world foggy and distant.
I make it halfway to a new universe
only to be sucked down and tormented until
once again i try to escape.
But only with failure. The suns
rays seem warm and wonderful
but after the greatness disappears
everythings burnt up, tired exhausted
and never willing again.
only to realize living is a waste of life
if not in the right hands, the strong hands.
so the weak, we live in our self created foggy world
believing we are omnimicent.
But others looking and pitying the weak.
The others knowing the exact opposite of our thoughts.
When in truth, this grey sticky andgry air only entrances me and my counted days.

This was written by one of my good friends Jenna, I think she is a wonderful writer. There are some mistakes mostly because she writes when she is high on some drug(I hate to say) but that is Jenna and you lean to live with it.