Writing My Own Story


Sometimes people just don't understand

The details of who you are and where you stand

Because more often than not, their criticisms

Are wrong, but they still tend to make you feel weak.

You say their words will never get to you

And that nothing they say will ever be true

And the thing is it won't but the words have a way

Of cutting straight through you like butter.

Because the wounds never quite healed all the way

So often you're left all alone through the day

And the people that said "I will never leave you"

Were always the first ones to go.

The places you lived at were temporary

And ceiling you stared at could seem quite scary

Because the people were walls that held it up

And we know that they don't stay for long.

There was always something about this life

That for some reason was never quite right

And we're supposed to choice our destiny

But how? Is there even a future?

If only at one stop along the long way

Someone came along that was here to stay

Then maybe for more than a second of our lives

We'd have someone on whom to rely.

So here we stand in the middle of the road

Wishing there was someone share the load

Because it's heavy you know, but day by day

We handle out burdens alone.



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