I met a man in the alley of the street
His eyes looked haunted and
my voice gave out to shriek

He carried a box in his hand
he said it granted 3 wishes
of the owner that it had.
He put the box in my hand
and disappeared.

...Once I was granted three wishes..
The first was freedom to roam the streets
The second creativity to never be put to sleep
and the third was a new happy heart to be guilt free.

And for once I was truly happy.

My brother passed my way, desperat for change.
He took my one way ticket to freedom.
And went, without graditude or goodbye.

No longer free to do my will
I was stuck, but happy,
painting the freedom lost.

My mother came to me, jealous of my art.
Stole my paint and creativity
and started recreating her dreams.

Stuck, and left with nothing, I sat
my heart was still pure and forgiving.
and somehow I believed myself to be happy.

Until the door smashed open..
In came my father
and ripped my heart out of my chest
and left me only for death to take.

I waited for death to come
and save me from my morbid faith
as walking dead
but he never came

I could not believe my granted wishes was lost
But soon the discover the curse I got.

Walking dead I was free to roam the street.
My creativity had opened the doors to hell
Undead, zombie-like
I fed myself with bypassers brains,
no more feeling guilty or ashamed..