Not all that glitters is gold, or so I've been told.
So crown me the fool because I thought you were more than golden.
I believed your love was sent straight from God,
I sipped sweet nothings like divine nectar, and lord did I drink.

Drunk on your love, addicted, diagnosed lovesickness.
I loved you more than all the gold in the world,
You were my God given Angel.
You were love, you were my light,
To me you were more than divine.

But not all that glitters is gold,
and overtime the illusion began to fade.
Our love was nothing but a tragic story,
a cautionary tale, I might be Juliet but you weren't Romeo.

Your nectar was just arsenic dressed with lace,
Lies disguised as sweet nothings,
Daily delivery straight to my face.
Call me lovesick, call me crazy.
I never noticed your indiscretions,
guess my vision was too hazy.

The truth lies somewhere within the lies,
and the truth is,
you were never just mine.

How did we get this far?
Seems like everyone has lost their hearts,
Demons and scars tearing us apart at the seams.
Empathy's a newly made ghost town.
Sympathy on the brink of running extinct.
This isn’t how it used to be.
At least,
this isn’t how it used to seem.

I still remember the world at sixteen.
When cars went fast,
music was played on blast,
and the wind whipped through my hair.
We were tangled messes but didn’t care.
The night lights felt brighter,
Our worries felt lighter,
And the outside world didn’t look so broken down.

I remember the world at eighteen,
When all we had was optimism, and a dream.
I can see that last classroom with all my friends,
Smiling until the bell sounded, and class fizzled to an end.
We took our party out to the parking lot that day,
We smiled then,
We laughed a lot.

I’m twenty-one now and don’t laugh as much.
Its only been three years,
but I feel out of touch.
This world already weighing heavily on my heart.
Am I doing it right this growing up part?
No one seems to know,
we're all just taking a shot in the dark.

So I hold onto the feeling of sixteen,
the feeling of being free.
I hold onto the feeling of eighteen,
when the world seemed to fit into the palm of my hand.
Life seemed so much brighter,
so much kinder back then.

A drink will numb all that pain,
Shout the others of my age.
Go on, grab a claw, let's get wasted!
Alcohol is the best distraction for inner self-hatred.

Fake pleasantries are exchanged upon entering the door,
and drinks find hands before wandering the floor.
All actions taken seem inherently fake, this is the part I can't help but hate.
Everyone buzzed off claws, tequila, and beer,
I don't know why I even come here.

This isn't tag, the drink in your hand isn't home base,
having a buzz doesn't make you safe.
The can of claw can't banish demons, it's not a magical aluminum wand
They're only momentarily paused.
When you wake they'll be there once more,
and yet again you'll crave a drunken dance floor.
"the best way to deal is to drink beer, and that a fact" mumbles a far  gone Chad.

Maybe I'm cynical, I could be far from right
But I've found that putting a drink in my hand
Only hurts me more in the end.

to be honest, i've never known exactly why
my self-esteem has never been very high.
no matter how hard i seem to try,
failure ebbs and flows in my life, predictable
just like a tide.

lately failure seems to have quickened it's pace
and i can't say i've handled it with grace
i walk around, with my smile mask plastered on my face
hoping no one sees just how badly i feel out of place
this tsunami of failure, and self hate
is one i cannot seem to shake.

my inner critic is putting in more hours than the traditional nine to five.
i don't even know if what i'm feeling classes me as still alive
i feel as though i've become a zombie, freshly crawled from the grave.
just mumbling, and stumbling around
trying to find self-esteem without falling down.

What would the world be,
If we all dreamed as though we were 17?
As though we were still standing on the precipice of old and new.
What if we acted the way we did,
when the world seemed kinder?
It seems far gone are the days of budding fingertip worlds,
whose magic enhanced freedom's dance across our hands.

I long for the years of uncomplicated understandings,
when all problems were bipartisan,
and solutions seemed so simply reached.

How would the world seem,
if we never suckled from limitations ****?
How different would this world be,
if we had learned to embrace change with open arms,
and one another with open hearts?

At times this world seems more than blind
When all we are allowed to see is violence mixed in with strife
The world around becomes dulled and dark
And seems as though
We are overrun with malevolent persons
Our pasts haunted, Our presents uncertain
And something is seemingly always lurking
This world has simply become much to bare

But, there are those who truly care
They lend a shoulder, share in the load
Because as they well know
Together we accomplish much more than doing it alone.

Just as it's sung in every song,
and told in stories, who's tellers are long gone
There one thing that can vanquish this dark
and that is kindness shone from the heart

So this extends my challenge to you
That even as this world is about to break,
You pause and think before spreading weeds of hate.
Seize that moment, Use this time
To shine your light, and be the kind.

Lately I've found myself stuck inside a daydream
An intricate web of spun storylines
A million things to overthink
My thoughts ebb and flow like the tide
A welcome relief from mundane life