  I musn't daydream. I can't let go of myself. Once I'm gone, I have no control. I think too much, Search for answeres, When I can't find them.
I dream them and Change my life. It doesn't work. I only slip farther; Farther and farther in. One day I won't come back. What then? They'll have to just let me be. Let me go. But they won't, they'll at least try. They'll try to pull me back. Bring me to consciousness. Maybe I just won't ever come to. What of everyone then?
Some will genuinely miss me, Some will have known, There will be those too, Who won't even notice. Not that that's nessiarly bad. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion, Of me and my ways. They will think how I was, Remember when I changed. Some will have known I needed help, Some would never have guessed. And I would confirm some theories.
But what of me? That's of them, How will I be? Gone. Gone of this world. Mentaly in the nest, Physically here Though not responding. Maybe someday I'll come to, Find myself a grown adult, And not sure where to go. My life, wasted away, Out of my control, And also that of others. Where will I go then? All because I was dreaming... 
