All of This

The walls feel like they're crumbling,
The voices never cease to crescendo.
I can't hear my music, can't hear my mind
Nothing is audible over the squall around me.
I try and try, countless times,
The volume on the CD player's as loud as it goes.
Still there is no refuge, no escape
From the fury and frustration outside my bedroom door.
It didn't used to be like this
That's why I can't stand it now
Lines repeated countless times,
The shouting, the yelling, and the tears.
To think this came from a family tired of deceit.
All of this because if a pack of cigarettes.......