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This is a poem i wrote
Alot of times you ask me how i'm doing, i say just fine
a smile on my face with laughter and full of sunshine
but if you were to look deeper, you would see what lies beneath
the broken pieces of my heart, all the secret's that i keep
if only you could have worn my shoes, and walked thru the forest
but now you can learn the words with me, and sing along to the chorus
as we fight on thru life, and the issues that we face
the smile i hold, hides a story untold that i cannot erace
thru the tears i shed, and the feelings i keep within
my past sometimes haunts me, and takes me on a wild spin
i sometimes ask myself, what am i doing? why am i alive?
i've had many chances to see the end, and take the dive
instead i turned around, faced it all, and with a warriors scream
i fought away every nightmare that came at me, hoping to see the dream
on the edge of life, sometimes feeling so empty inside
as if my heart no longer exists, but thru these words i confide
as many times as i wish i would have tied, and as many times as i cried
i dry my eyes and continue the journey, death is an easy escape
when there is so many other routes in life that you can take
and sometimes, i lay in bed, eyes wide open, as i lay awake
thinking to myself, this pain i feel, will it ever go away?
i know i've made it this far, and tomorrow's a new day
but sometimes it doesn't feel as if i can take another breath
i want to walk this journey, but will my leg's take that next step?
i tell myself i cannot give up, even tho sometimes i just want to let go of the rope
my life story placed within each song i've wrote
and may this poem be a well written suicide note
as the tears drop, i take the final breath and press send
for all to read, and understand who i was, beneath this skin
as the bullet takes me away and i ascend
i never said goodbye, because this is not the end
because i do not die, i just let the next day begin
the bullet, comes from no gun, it's only an analogy
a symbol that is ink shooting from a pen, writing reality
i choose to continue the fight with a survivor mentality
while some pretend to love me, and pretend to care
it is those who seen the ugly, yet are still there
that show me who's true, and who is only a foggy silhouette
and thru hardtimes i learn and grow, but never perfect
until i grow old and grey, the knowledge i shall hold
may forever be etched in my soul, as a story to be told