I sit for a bit in a circle of the few I call friends discussing everyday life inside of this pen.  People, places, things and situations of such that never really go anywhere until I’m in my box.

My mind wanders never realizing all that I take in, it never stops.  All the emotions, the feeling of neglect while later processing through the muck.  I sit in my room alone in the box, feeling too much, thinking to myself how much this truly sucks.

With pencil in hand I draw on a page finding a release for so much rage when in reality it’s my heart ache and pain.  

Society’s castaways; we are forgotten by many, empty souls that are paid for just pennies.




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