I just want to go
Anywhere but here
To be somewhere
Without my fear.
They just won't go
No matter how I plead
My fear is an army
Of soldiers and steed.
They leave in the morning
And return with the moon
Attacking my brain
Without a gun or harpoon.
Their weapons are words
Too dark for me to utter
Or else I am met with
"Too young" in a mutter.
My brain is confused
At what voice is my own
As my own thoughts are
Often overthrown.
The worst part is
I face this army alone
I've put up a fight
But I want to go home.
