Look where weβre standing,
look how strong we are now,
its crazy.
The long road werenβt easy,
but at least that roads
the right way.
Still together,
youβre the only one.
Still the one
that I call,
whenever I have
good news.
Still my forever
in a world of limited time.
The only woman Iβve loved,
still everything
that I want,
youβre the one.
Maybe thereβs beauty in passing,
maybe thereβs justice in violence and
maybe thereβs no life worth saving.
None except yours?
one life worth saving?
a set of dreams worth keeping?
Joyous times now replaced
with somber days,
short burst of joy spread
throughout longer days,
you ever felt so alone with friends…
And at the same time at home with strangers?
Still believe in time,
yet Iβve lost faith in patience;
they tell me youβre smiling
I miss how that face looked,
you ever felt invisible…
The true irony is when you face it.
Just a soul among many,
just a name,
excluding experience,
Weβre all the same.
At best we get a moment,
at worst, you are just a face.
Take my hand,
you are still my light
in the dark.
You just are,
my very own sun,
such a beautiful star.
Where you are,
is the place
that I seek from afar.
This times ours,
forever we stand
heart to heart.
What is constant in a world of moments,production is in abundance yet so many are still hopeless?So what is always in a world of βneverβin a world of sometimes,whatβs forever?Dreamt a thousand dreams.Hoped forevermore,for brighter days for the pooror just a chance at it,a shot at a future, a slice of hope,because while at times it shines here,the rains been constantand the joy has always been brief,yet the pains so constant.
ππππΆ π±πΆπππππΎππ, π΅πππ πΌπ π²βππΉππ
No silver spoon,
I only know drug antidotes,
only thing to ease my mind
when the demons call.
Five years my junior,
but the reason I became a man.
On these words I stand…
your lifeβs my only plan.
Jungle made of concrete,
seen no easy years,
lifeβs so unfair…
can still feel your soul in the air.
I always heard talk of βwhatβs meant to beβΒ told time and time again that life works wonders.
Time after time Iβd disagree.
Iβd ask,
βWhoβs to say whatβs meant for me?β
whoβs to say I matter so much, so much that thereβs a plan out of reach, some divine notion, a greater guidance of sorts… on what grounds do I base such arrogant assumptions?
On what evidence do we assume our lives more worthy than the next…
our lives more righteous than the past?
If the individual is paramount, if βspecialβ is what we are,
then by what criteria is that marked?
this is all I ask
