I dont know why

The lights are out, music plays in the background
Darkness broken by a shout, a sobbing sound
On his knees, spit hangs from his lip
Screaming a plea, he knows is forfeit
“Why must I cry, why yearn to die?”
Amidst his tears, releases a sigh
His hand reaches for his drink, he requires a sip
The alcohol helps him to think, he knows he is sick
The sip turned to a gulp, his soul turned to pulp
Half empty bottle and a figure cemented in sulk
This is a picture the walls have often seen
A reoccurring scene, inescapable dream
The questions are always asked
When the tears are no longer masked, and his mind state is tasked
The screams find life, when the bottle lost half his
But the source of his strife … unknown what that is
However, he has a clue, a hint, an indication
Knows what he could do, overcome with hesitation
He has been through his mind’s eye, and saw the lie
A white door locks its content, never did he try
Try to open it, try to smash through
Scared of the meaning to the clue
Its mere sight brings forth a plight
He tries to fight with all his might
But never does he win
The door’s presence is dominating
The tears flow forth, unrestrained and steady
Each drop full of pain thus heavy
The weight bears down on his heart
Before it crumbles, the drinking starts
But he is still unwilling, unable to open that door
If its mere sight does this … there could be more
The door could open a memory so wrought with misery
That immediately he would drown in his own agony
And seek his last breath
Walk into the night, and play chess with death
He would rather stay sobbing in his room
Drunk beyond measure, basking in his gloom
He does not know the darkness in his heart
But feels it grow, ripping his happiness apart
When asked why he seems so unhappy
He replies “I don’t know why, don’t ask me”
Scared to face his past, hoping the present will pass
This is a man accustomed to his social mask
A walking contradiction … to not know yourself is hell

 This piece I dont know why is one I found in the many maps that hold my writing. I dont know why I never used it, and to be honest I dont know why what the purpose for it was. But I assume that it wasnt for my second book, so it should be A OK for me to share it with you guys. And even though I dont know why how old this one is, or how I came up with the idea for this piece. I do know that I like this piece, and I love how the story is being told. I know blowing my own horn, isnt the coolest thing to do, but hey I cant be flawless. And even if I dont know why or how I made this piece, Im more than happy to share it with you guys.

In case you like this story, I am sure you will like some of my other pieces as well. And I dont know why you wouldnt like them, so I will just give you the link so you can read up on the boy.