if you knew my history
could you still look at me?
my eyes are bright
and smiles are wide
but something lurks
and wants to hide.
you see my face
and multi-coloured hair
all wrapped up in piercings
and hardened flair.
optimism and selflessness
can be read on my pages.
but look inside
of these shackled cages.
there's more to it
than my futile shell.
this is my clockwork
that no one can foretell.
nobody knows what i do
so that they wont take pity
i dont need any of that
it only makes me feel shitty.
so i lock it up
and keep it inside.
i dont want others
to feel i've lied.
about the cold
and hurt i've felt.
the truth is
with this, i have dealt.
all you can do
is push on
and take every minute
before it's gone.
It might just be me
but ive learned a lot
and the wars in our heads
cannot be fought.
pick up your socks
and trudge through the mud
because at the end of the day
its just you and your god.
basically, i don't know you and you don't know me. no matter how many times we speak to one another, we will never fully get eachother. listen more, but don't speak less and keep your judging for book covers.
