Constraint to happiness,
the words you could write.
Limited to appreciation,
the markings made on paper.
Where your world's just darkness,
you seek for pain to reside.
Ignoring the contradictions,
you had your emotions tempered.
'One is hurt enough, we don't need more,
the line you use to cover your sore.
Forgetting the pain you hold,
a new hope blooms as one gets old.
Neglecting the growing wound in you,
tearing a hole right through.
Constantly bringing light to the world.
sharing joy with others through words.
You're but an empty vessel,
that no amount of joy can fill.
You're but in need of an ear,
that can sit by and hear.
Your life's but an empty page,
where vocab depicts no emotions.
Your soul's but only worn,
hoping for the day to reborn.
It's time to tear away your masquerade,
for history's pain will only then fade.
It's a waste to spend life in regrets,
there's just so much to experience yet.
It's time to break open the locks,
and put your past away in a box.
It's when you put down the bane,
and clear the remains of old stains.