34, lying on the couch, feeling like I’m 23
11 years passed and I still have the same dream
Somewhere up in the sky, floating above me
An image burning bright, I can so clearly see
One that I’m struggling to pull to the ground
All I’ve got is silence, I can’t make a wave, I can’t make a sound
It’s strange to be happy but still inside somewhere there is a frown
The halls are narrow, these halls are dark
My god it would be a miracle if somehow I could create a spark
There hasn’t been a fire here in years
Just dark colored walls plastered with my fears
A boy inside, his screams are sincere
The man I am, struggles to hear
What will it take to wake up and let it all out?
Have you ever sat around wondering about all the talent that you have
And why it’s packed away collecting dust, it makes you blue, it makes you mad
Some days you paint it black and others you feel the light
But what’s going to make it alright?
I guess I got more battles, because this war here is called my life.
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