The Making of a Delinquent

What do you do?
When there's no way to go, no one to call
Nobody's shoulder on whom you can fall.
When every feeling is a farce
When the brain is hurting due to the scars.

Yesterday, there was a tomorrow
That's all filled with sorrow
The heart has not forgiven, not forgotten
Burning, each day it becomes more rotten

The tortuous road is torturous to tread,
What lies after the bend, I totally dread,
For even though I have not seen it yet
The turn, I know, unravels the skeletons in the closet

No one remembers who I was
The person without the clause
From where have come the monsters within me,
Thou tell me, was this how I was meant to be?

With nowhere to go and nowhere to hide
There is time I must bide
But each borrowed time time brings a feeling so farce
The brain hurts due to the scars