My mind is an overgrown jungle,
and your axe blade won't help you at all,
because the vines of my pain are too thick here,
and the thorns of my sorrow too tall.
my mind is an overgrown jungle,
there's no entrance to let you inside,
in fear that you'll cut down my branches,
and find he feelings that I've worked hard to hide.
the vines tie in knots in my jungle,
to form a rooftop that blocks out the light,
so the sun might be warm on the outside,
but the inside is cold as the night.
there's a house made of thorns in my jungle,
I've spent years making it just like home,
I can do anything that I want to here,
to take my mind off the fact that I'm alone.
because the problem with overgrown jungles,
is there's always more vines that will sprout,
and I know that it's hard to get in here,
but it's 10 times harder to get out.
- e h