The light can't make up its mind On either to be a light or just

The light can't make up its mind
On either to be a light or just let it be dark
It flickers from the ceiling of her closet that has no door
It's a closet full of all kinds of things
That she has collected over the years
Theres a brown box full of faded pictures
Another full of rusty old toys
There's a pile of dusty, torn stuff animals laying in the corner
Who have retired from keeping
All the monsters and her demons at bay
On the shoe rack is her skates she's barley ever worn
Because she could never figure out how to go forward
Without her always falling down
Underneath her battered shoes are all her unfinished dairies
And letters she never sent
Against the far wall beneath the still hangs the blood red prom dress
That never got the chance to sweeped across dance floors
Stacked against all four walls
Reaching up from the floor to the roof
Are all the books that ever made her cry or laugh
Or really felt anytype of anything
The brown carpet is stained
And there's a corner that was never stapled down
And what lays underneath
Is a folder full of secrets the world must never know
Its a closet full of new and old things
Memories of times that are either best left forgotten
Or never to forget
Its a closet
But its full of

Life