Poetic justice.

How I've been thinking,
Devestatingly lately,
About poetic justice,
Can it be considered,
Poetic that I myself,
Am growing up,
Confined in between,
The walls of a place,
To little for a mind,
That is one of a kind,
Am I to be forced,
Not to think in metaphors,
Cause to them I am talking in blurs?
Is there an law,
For me to keep on trying,
To reach out tell them all about,
My thoughts and reasons,
When most seasons I get laughed upon?
Can I decide myself,
To draw the line,
And keep my own thoughts mine?
Is one to be granted the wish,
To never speak again,
To their family when,
They don't ever understand the words,
So well descriping the feelings,
My heart is filled with?
Can bad blood come to peace,
When I choose for my own,
Peace of mind?
Tell me what will I find,
When I no longer let them indulgde in my mind...
Will I feel comforting or disgusted?
Will I been punished or loved...
By poetic justice?

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