Even when I'm dreaming, depression is flexing my mind
Every second is seeming like a test of the times
You can hear me screaming in the text of my lines
It's a special of mine to keep the stress in my rhymes
I express in context to complex to unwind
I never press together a letter without intent to define
It's how I express the mess between your heart and mine
Nothing's as complex as the thoughts of a mind
I've written the best of my stress off my chest to the page
One lesson to rest, the next is in line
I'm patiently waiting to face the ways of a days time
There's no weight on my chest, no break, and no cries
I just flip to the next page and begin to describe
I can flow forever, so I'll go 'til I die
Here's the next poem, from my soul to my eyes

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