Confusion

The constant, cruel cacophony can crush
My nerves at times and overwhelm my days --
I long for days when I'd enjoy the hush
Of forest walks that kept me from the glaze
That cataracts my mind when music, voices,
Such overwhelming sounds come from my choices.

The constant tugging, pulling, neediness
Of everyone exhausts me, makes a haze
Through which all light seems blinding bright -- I bless
Those moments, ever-rarer, when I gaze
Upon a room of nothingness, where none
Is present, making their demands I run.

The constant pettiness that seems to fill
The days of everyone are like a blaze
Of heat, oppressing me. Do what I will,
Yet going through my days brings on a daze,
Where I cannot collect my thoughts, my self --
I feel a toy forgotten on the shelf.