Congratulations!
You're now a part of the grey.
Here's your certificate to state;
That you'll slowly decay.
Everything will seem fine,
But as soon as you get home,
You'll lock yourself away,
And destroy your phone.
Your hands will go numb,
Your voice will become weak.
You will not speak to anyone,
In almost three weeks.
Solitude will eat you,
Gnaw at your bones.
People will assume you're fine,
But it's not their life to suppose.