There Are at Least Eight Ways to Break out of this Dump; I'm Taking the Front Door

There's a part of me you have not seen,
You have not known,
I have not shown.
To hide in fear,
I've wasted years
I've tasted tears,
My own.
I've witnessed pain
I've felt it too
These words aren't mine
They belong to you
And to you
And to you.

A boy in school
A man in the world
A brother
A son
A friend
Waiting on life to begin
But it begins and it begins
And it begins again.
Nary a day is the end
Not til the stop of wind

Not til the breath in both my lungs
Fails to circulate
Will life cease to resonate

Waiting on life to begin
It's futile
It's false
It's a logical flaw
A fallacy believed out of doubt
This guarded fortress, this prison,
I've often talked of breaking out.
But I hold the key,
I know these walls
And where they are weak,
I built them all.
I built...them all.

There's a part of me you have not seen,
You have not known,
I have not shown.