Come and take a walk through my mental corridors,
An infinite hallway with many wooden doors,
Try and enter them go ahead and knock,
I don’t bare my soul, my rooms have a lock!

Take a glimpse through the keyhole, alright,
What you will see will give you a fright,
Unkempt rooms filled up with memories,
On a brighter day you could find some fantasies!

This is the madhouse I keep inside,
From love to hate from will to suicide,
Every mad magic moment here it’s stored,
Every excitement gained down to those moments bored.

But now one can see what’s become of me,
And my head is heavy and painfully full,
I’ve gained so much and I’ve suffered plenty,
Never a moment too happy, never a moment dull!

The cobwebs hang in every darkened corridor,
The varnish old and dull and flaking from the doors,
What’s the difference between unkept and insanely kept?
In the same place you’ll find “I smiled” next to “ I wept!”

So what does one make of me?
Turn away, laugh?, or donate pity!
Sad to say I’m never getting better!
One day, maybe, I will finish my suicide letter.

And I have made many dreams,
Some of them have actually come true!
And I have here many types of mood,
But most of them make me feel blue!
So until I quit or fail or take a pause,
I will keep my memories locked away behind closed doors!