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I want to write but I don't have an idea of exactly what,
I lack a grasp of how I feel,
I can't find peace in my laziness, yet I've worked all day,
He says I'm loyal,
She says I'm good but I'm not honest with emotions,
They say what they know,
We say what we all think about others,
Till they actually show us who they are,
And I just want to write all of this,
But words are failing me.
Where my life lived, lives prevailed,
I will never watch others suffer while I surf markets for food,
With my pockets filled and my gusto fuelled;
Where I feel a tinge of pain, I don't impinge,
I don't infringe on how y'all feel because I know it cuts,
I know the way blades feel when the skin hurts,
That feeling of brisk happiness in an ocean of fulfilment.
I just want to write the wrongs in the world,
Tell you and you that I'm overrated,
I'm not as strong as you think,
Not as soulful as my eyes look,
I make mistakes, and won't tell you not to,
Because the more you avoid one, the more you get plunged in others.
There are catalogues of unmet aspirations,
A menu of dreams, window shopped by a willing buyer,
Who can't afford a day of sleep without nightmares?
Yet wants to sashay in that reality,
Of true realizations and realizations of the death of my nightmares,
I want to write,
But not at this full, scary glare of the night.
Isn't today another day?
The pace of life scares hell out of the heaven in my heart,
But I can't write that, right?
Yet, I want to unleash my full potential
I want to write but I don't have an idea of exactly what,
I lack a grasp of how I feel,
I can't find peace in my laziness, yet I've worked all day,
He says I'm loyal,
She says I'm good but I'm not honest with emotions,
They say what they know,
We say what we all think about others,
Till they actually show us who they are,
And I just want to write all of this,
But words are failing me.
Where my life lived, lives prevailed,
I will never watch others suffer while I surf markets for food,
With my pockets filled and my gusto fuelled;
Where I feel a tinge of pain, I don't impinge,
I don't infringe on how y'all feel because I know it cuts,
I know the way blades feel when the skin hurts,
That feeling of brisk happiness in an ocean of fulfilment.
I just want to write the wrongs in the world,
Tell you and you that I'm overrated,
I'm not as strong as you think,
Not as soulful as my eyes look,
I make mistakes, and won't tell you not to,
Because the more you avoid one, the more you get plunged in others.
There are catalogues of unmet aspirations,
A menu of dreams, window shopped by a willing buyer,
Who can't afford a day of sleep without nightmares?
Yet wants to sashay in that reality,
Of true realizations and realizations of the death of my nightmares,
I want to write,
But not at this full, scary glare of the night.
Isn't today another day?
The pace of life scares hell out of the heaven in my heart,
But I can't write that, right?
Yet, I want to unleash my full potential
