Cuts, scars, bruises

The routine I so well know

Life isn’t about the canoes and cruises

It’s about those people who row

Miracles happen, this I know to be true

It happened to me, it can happen to you

I was rescued from abusive parents

A drunkard and a druggy

My life shaped by the ignorance

They had for their only son

I was kicked around like a match of rugby

That no one ever won

But it’s nothing compared to the release I have now

The problem is, I have to, somehow,

Escape from the memories

I’m just running out of energy

So tired of the fear

That brings me back to those days

So tired of the hope

That pulls me every which way

I should be thankful, and I am,

It just seems that my life’s all "thank you ma'am"

But I haven’t really lived at all

I call it existence

Living is about revival

Fighting the very resistance

Existing calls for just survival

Survival of the fittest

Maybe I fall into that

Yet I feel like I drowned

But those things I endured

The stuff I had to witness

Did it make me stronger

Or just shoot me down?

The difference is in perspective

Which I can’t say I’ve got

And if I do, its defective

From all the times in the dark I’ve shot

But still I overcame it

And I believe in second chances

Take a picture; frame it

Then feel free to burn it to ashes


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741