I sit down on the chair, looking afar
Reflecting back to a previous time
Wondering why I stole that mans car
Even though It wasn’t much of a crime
Now I am being being convicted, I’m eighteen.
All of these years, what can I blame?
I should have thought it through, this was unseen
Now I enter a new age, with faulty fame
Past mistakes have come back to haunt me
Nowadays my parents don’t come to visit
If only they knew what I can see
Everything aside, I have been explicit
*unfinished*