Fame

Sometimes screaming on the inside,

Can make your shell break from the outside, making you vulnerable and so much comparable.

Making you lose your mind,

Dying in your sleep thousand of times,

Going through different deaths but with the same fate,

Etched on your head, the heart feels like it will burst but instead of blood,

Doubts will come out oozing, and knifes with which they have stabbed,

Making you unconscious of what's wrong in your head,

Making you go insane, but you can't think of anything but vain.

Then living feels such a pain,

With a wound on your head, and ankle-sprained,

Talking foolishly to people,

Those who once loved you because of your fame.