Life feels unwritten And i'm running out of ink It's not being understood Not quite understood It's quite poetic Cause it's soaking in regret It's not being understood Not quite understood Nothing seems to be growing Only controlling the doubt Why's the quill not working Only smearing about The pain of not being understood Sound like a sonnet Cause they stopped reading at fourteen I'm not being understood Not quite understood Can't tell when it's finished I'm free versing down a trench I'm not being understood Not quite understood Nothing seems to be growing Only controlling the doubt Why's the quill not working Only smearing about The pain of not being understood Running out of time Running out of rhyme Running out of ink Running out so quick Running out of time Running out of rhyme Running out of ink Running out so quick Nothing seems to be growing Only controlling the doubt Why's the quill not working Only smearing about The pain of not being understood