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History
This is just a poem I made in Language arts class... It can get dark if you think about it. I might make a chain of these.... If you guys want...

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I strive for silence, For solace, for black

Nothing would mean more to me.

Vines ripping their way up, Suffocating me from life.

They shine and live off fake sunlight

Their text consuming my vision,

My ideas popping up, expressed in images

I find myself needing to escape, So I pry my hand forward

It reached for a button, And with one click,

The computer releases me, Its fruit withering