The feeling is impossible to define.  
Yet, I need it for every minute.  
Happiness will never come to those who fail to appreciate what they already have. 
 A man who sold his soul for profit.  
What appear in a mist has now vanished.  
It's the inner peace I must cultivate.  
As the turmoil of disappointment rages through my body.  
Its corrosive nature eats away my hope. 
 A foreign place I must now navigate is the new reality.  
Lost in my own consternation. Where my spirit is insecure.  
Shame is buried in embankment never to be spoken of.  
Answers can't change the past.  
My search for redemption begins now.  
Side hustle for cigarettes is a thing.  
While some broadcast their pain for sympathy.  
Others channel aggression as a safety deposit for their soul.  
The rest is years in the making of eternal loneliness.  
The greatest loss is what dies inside while still alive. 
 From under hangs to park benches.  
Abandoned buildings to shelters. I will recreate myself.  
My strongholds shall be free. The fire inside burns brightly.  
The clouds drift in the sky.  
As this will too. I will never be boxed in. 
 I will never be boxed in.