Dreamers are the ones I envy.
People caught in the struggle, I wish to be.
That feeling to strive for something you truly believe in,
to become that image that so long you've fought for.
I won't deny that sometimes I cry.
Wishing that by some miracle that could be me.
Breaking down barriers that keep who I could be from me.
But that's a wasted wish on a ball of flames.
Dreams aren't forced, they're made..
But why every time I think of it,
I'm lead back to my bare walls.
I want to be that person known for their achievments,
stories told that since young I've been trying to catch more then I could hold.
Pushing back when the world tried to shut my faith out.
I want more than anything:
to be remembered as a dreamer.

We ourselves claim to know ourselves.
From top to bottom from the inside, out.
But to view our actions from an outside face,
is something that we'll never know.
Can't experiance it for our own.
It's a journey that comes to facts that who we thought was us, was maybe not.
So in the end who are we?
The person we say we are or the one that the world and society sees before them.

I laugh when you ignore me.
I giggle as you send me to voicemail.
I smile when you don't read my text.
Yet, I cry when you reply.
The more you show you care the deeper I get confused.
On whether having you is best or a waste of my pursue.
My dream had been to be independent, support my self all my own.
I've learned each step as I've grown but this is yet to be labeled unknown.
I rely too much on a male, that lately has only shown to define the word fail..
rather than love.
A four letter word that has so many meanings.
Yet, here you are without showing me one.

Sometimes I put my mind to work, and spin the start of a new tale.
One that's not obscured by lies and the whispers of lullabies.
Since young I've grown to be strong for those surrounding me.
Whether it included strangers or a person that simply pleaded for it.
I've had to build up just so that the weight wouldn't haul me down.
A pity the things we put our next generation through, expecting better.
Like the pounds of pressure we get for becoming something were not isn't enough.
I long to see the day where we come face to face that world peace is done.
We can hope all we want but happiness isn't coming taging along.
I long for the day that a tale of true life is made...
And we raise our kids prepared rather than blind.