Paperback Reflection (3/7/2007)

My life’s full of doubts and of mental clouds
I reflect what is wasted behind this shroud
Sick of this headache as my temples pound
Can I shed my own skin and for once get out?
Cause it’s so hard to see me and not reel back
As I stare at myself and let the glass react
It breaks, shows me faces and throws me back
I stab at myself with the shards that crack
And now these scars that I scratch bleed just a little
It may be a new reason but still me in the middle
I bow my head like a willow and turn eyes away
With a hood on my head as I’ll soon hide away
Blind to the something that lies beneath the cover
I stare at the jacket I hate like no other
Nothing is right and my face has no color
This sensation of weight is a gateway to stutter
So how do I lose this? Where can I run to?
Where do I go where they don’t let the sun through?
Hide all the lights that expose imperfection
And drown in a mind where there’s hope and correction
Cause nothing gets read when the cover is ugly
That old line is dead, I know that, just trust me
Judgments are made by the shell that we’re showing
And I go through this hell cause reflections are knowing