A New Full Stop.

Stuck in a pool of gooey black stuff,

I thought I could make it all the way up.

Something is wrong; I don’t feel strong,

“Get along,” they said, but I wanted a different song.

Hard to make it so far,

My smile is hidden under many scars.

I don’t feel like myself,

My feelings are trapped on a locked shelf.

Is the effort worth the prize?

I don’t feel better or like a phoenix about to rise.

To end in a handful of sand,

Why don’t I halt my life at my command?