Real people inside.
Real people have lives.

You chose to avoid what you fear.
Results have been proven clear.

Tell me to wait for you next year.
But I know your journey isn’t near.

Wash away the pain with an attitude that’s mundane.
Wash away my attitude when they mention your name.

Feelings of us together were mutual.
Now I feel unusual.

Coffee every morning; watching the morning news.
Never thought that I would ever lose you.

Promises of never using you.
You were used too much.

Will you come back to me?
Who am I to trust?

Try to resolve but resolutions never happen.
Our problems seem ever so saddening.

Joy is in the air, but I never seem to know.
I sit and wait for the day you come back to show.

Broken glass spread around like a tornado came through.
A life is not perfect when my life is without you.

The broken glass pieces are hard to piece together.
Sharp edged, dense and light as a feather.
The tornado comes through with very disastrous weather.

I don’t know whether or not.
To stop the clock.

And freeze time.
Or let the time keep going.

Living life in the meantime.
Living life without knowing.

Say life will get better, but the tornadoes keep showing.
They keep coming and I start to run.

The life I live is one I would give if I could get a life with a bit more fun.
But I stay weary of tomorrow and I stay eager for the sun.

The sun will come out tomorrow and start another new day.
One hopefully full of potential in every single way.

As I look out into the distance, the tornado starts to fly across the distant plains.
The earth shakes and it starts to rain.

Earthquakes shake the ground and root up trees.
I would try to stop all the disaster, but the Earth is literally killing me.

The pain I feel is horrid.
The rain outside is pouring.

The drops of water echo down the hallways.
Outside is damp, cold and stormy.

The pain of the rain will drain me.
The pain of my heart will make me insane.

The choice is yours.
Take it or leave it.

Take the moment right now.
Live it and seize it.

The dreams you have.
Fill an empty mind.

And empty thoughts do not determine untold secrets and white lies.

So promise that you will show some sort of respect.
Don't make another cry.

Cold to the touch.
And a sigh of relief.

Broken branches fall.
In the air float the leaves.

The perfect way.
To a semi-perfect day.

Force me to feel.
During times I can't heal.

Not given the time to mend.
To frantic to comprehend.

And though you wouldn't understand.
You don't feel what I feel of course.

All I feel is pain.
And all I feel is resentful remorse.

I'm not the best.
I'm like the rest.

I take a single final breath.
I inhale and exhale hell that's held within.

Try, I try to not let them win.
But they push so strong.
I'm always wrong.

So they say that I'm a pointless object.
They say that I'm just a project of.
Something that needed to be discovered.

Stuck in the dirt, dug up.
And uncovered.

Something special like a diamond.
Something rare like a four leaf clover.
Something that I should have told her.
Times passing, I'm getting older.
The rigid air is freezing, temperature gets much colder.

But then I remember that I'm not the best.
I'm like the rest.

I play the same games.
I do the same things.
I go to the same places.
But the places me nothing to me.

But I remember.
Time and time again.

I'm like the rest
I'm not the best.

Pretending is only pointless.
Society pushes for you and I to conform.
Unfamiliar faces began to swarm.

They swarm around the most average of them all.
They adapt and collect and knock down all the walls.

Society revolts throughout the air.
All I get are average, blank gazing stares.

I began to feel a presence all around.
When people begin to notice around the town.
All the people do is just tear me down.

And again.
I ask myself.
Why am I like the rest?
Then I remember it once again.
I am not the best.

I'm like a candle.
I am too much to handle.

Fire flames surround my face.
I fall and burn down the place.

The place comes crashing down.
Fire frenzy throughout the town.

Firefighters come to the hurry.
But quickly leave due to the furry.

Flames spread faster than a speeding train.
Nothing left but a ferocious fire flame.

Dust falls crying over the city.
Nothing left but ash and pity.

And I try to listen to what others say.
I sit in silence and pray.
That my own mind will be content and stay.
Without my own mind burning away.

And God forbid my mind burst and become hard to handle.
For I am nothing more than a lit wax candle.

Young little face.
Lost in the world.

Young little heart.
Waiting to be crushed.

Young little smile.
Waiting to be frowned upon.

Young little person.
With the world turned against him.

For the sickest nights.
Commence on the sickest days.

And the gloomy dark nights.
Consist of nothing but rain.

And the world is filled with nothing to gain.
And the only thoughts are kept away in your brain.

And the thoughts I have make me happy.
And they keep my young self sane.

The beginning was the hardest.
The beginning never faded.

The beginning was an annoyance.
It left me irritated.

Frustration was present.
And so were my fears.

Seeing past my problems.
Didn't seem very clear.

And through the darkness of the light.
I'll speak on all the things I did right.

You say I'm wrong.
Seems so typical.

But you're just not seeing me.
You're not seeing the visual.

We can follow our present.
Or we can follow our past.

But the hardest question is,
Which one will last?