Life is costly, With all the time we take.
We spend our lives worrying about what we’ll make.
But when it’s all said and done it’s all about the total spend.
We have a finite amount, And none to lend.
As sad as it is, time kills us all in the end.
So spend it wisely and create no waste.
Enjoy what you have and forgo the haste.

Who am I?
Am I a person I like?
Or am I the living embodiment of all I despise?

Do I get to choose?
Or do you decide?

Am I judged on my actions?
Or on the person inside?

What if the outcome is negative when we decide?
Do I give up who I am?

Abandon myself for your adoration,
Or continue on as me despite your abhorrence?

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
And sorrow is in the heart of the sufferer.
But as I grow weary and older,
With the weight of the world on my shoulders,
I often stop to wonder,
Is this life the same for me as it is for the others?
Do they feel the pain that flows through me?
Or do they look on in wonder?
Are you proud to be my friend?
Or will you turn on me in the end?

When can I rest?
When all the work is done?
Or when all has fallen around me?

Can I stop now?
Or do I have to keep going?
Do I have to keep struggling?
Or am I allowed some peace?

I need to know,
I need my questions answered.
I need your permission for me to stop,
Because it’s hard work putting you on top.

Being a stepparent is a fate worse than life.
I spend my time feeding into relationships that will not stand the test of time.
I am here as support, no matter what you need.
But no matter what I do I’ll never be he.

He who made you,
He who abandoned you.
He who caused you pain.

No matter what he does, you love him all the same.
Whatever I do I am looked on with disdain.

Being a stepdad is the hardest of all work,
Using me and running to him,
It makes my feelings hurt.

Yeah he may have made you but he never put in the work.
I don’t want to take his place,
I just want peace.

For you to love me will make me forever pleased.

In life I struggle,
To share my feelings with others.
My logical facade,
Is the flimsiest of covers.
Underneath rages a fire of emotion.
I find myself incapable of release.
I find myself living without peace

When I write my heart does the work.
When the pen hits the paper
My emotions escape with a relentless flow.
I spill it all and out it comes.
Waves of feeling that I cannot control.
Rapid flows of pain and joy crashing into one another.

If only I could talk to people like I can to paper.
Maybe then I’d be a better man
Instead of a lost little boy with nobody to hold my hand.

All I do is fight,
It is ingrained in my soul.
To stand up for myself,
To defend my position,
To me is all I know.

I am tired now,
I just want to lay down,
To accept oppression in my heart.
To give up being me.

I am trapped,
Leaning on who I am,
While being crushed by how I feel.
I am losing this fight.
I have lost.