You. You tell me how you expect me to get through this. How you expect me to hold myself up at my weakest points. To not be able to break, but yet to put some smile on that you cant even feel, a smirk you don’t have the ambition to wear.
They say that which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, but is that really how you feel when your sitting there saying why me? Although we don’t know how strong we are until strong is the only choice. What we tend to feel is, lets pass away life now, and make it easier. But sometimes easy isn’t the way. Life carries on but yet; do we want it to sometimes?
They say after a tornado comes a rainbow, but yet the tornado arrives again pushing you off the edge. The chance of someone redeeming themselves is one and one thousandth, which could only come with luck. What about those without the luck?
We just sit here and watch people go from mistakes, or wrongdoings, but yet do nothing. What do they expect us to do? Therefore not everyone learns and not everyone lives. It takes time for scars to heal; yet we can look at them today and feel the pain of hurt. So how have we fully recovered? Trust holds things together but how can we honestly trust someone? Can we really put out hearts out to someone when we know jealousy is an easy policy? After all we can’t control whom others fall in love with. Everyone has their spits and spins, but how much can one person actually take? Enough to watch that person leave?
Who’s the wrong one? Is it how the girls are or how the guys act? We can only blame one cause therefore there’s only one victim to a story. What is love? Someone whose always there, who makes you happy all the time? Everyone makes mistakes, no ones perfect, and everyone has their days. So how is the choice made?
Every step we take, every breath we breathe gets us closer, but what about the ones who didn’t take that step, but was handed the spot? How is that all fair to the ones who worked for it? Take what your given before its gone, because we wish, we wish so hard to be all, just for one person, to be everything, to mean everything, but yet how will we ever do it?
Can we really make every second count? What’s it counting? Do we ever think to deep? Too deep that impossibles become present? We all get so full of life, we cant have the time to just sit and think; we forget, were reminded, were blinded from things, like their impossible to see, it seems all a test waited upon to be passed. But just how far will it go on before we see it? It comes to the point where we say, we dream, and we think of the beyond.