here is another poem from me:


inside the box that holds the mystery.
the dark, dank, depressive inside.
what is the mystery?
hidden away inside locks and chains,
escape not an option, and hate is to blame.
to blame for the reasons of why we came
to see this thing that has our minds all twisted.
dain and discord follow the crowd as the shorud
of the rain clouds appear all around.
and the rain begins to fall as the box remains closed.

drip,drop,drip,drop,continuouly into insanity.
the sound of the rain falling to the ground are like
nails on a chalkboard to the ones who seek to find.
the truth, what is truth?
is it something that satisfies our minds for a time
then at the drop of a dime changes the mind.
to believe what it wants to believe.
but the box is the same,
a torturing object that reamins the same and
drives us insane till the same people that we came to know show
no remorse to the underlying hope that the box will open.
chains and locks, and a mystery unrevealed.
or is it?

hope you like stepping into the mind of goldengirl05chs. i am open to opinions.