When the ship of life sets sail,
where exactly will you be?
Below deck, not quite able to see the world
With your head down and your hands tucked in
your jeans' pockets. And as your ships sails on
the waters, steered by others you miss everything.
The gushing wind. you know not what it feels like,
The ocean spray. You know not what it tastes likes
The bright blue skies. You know not what it looks like.
But what you do know,
Is what it all sounds like, and so
The journey, you missed and as the ships docks on the dark
shores of the end of your journey.
All you can remember is not what it
Felt like,
Tastes like, nor
What it looks like but what it all sounded like.
Wondeful was the sound of the stories other lads had to tell
But now that you've come to the end
What is your story? The stories of men
For you never got to see, taste or feel it for yourself
Because you were below deck thinking all is well.

i didn't want to die anymore,
i just
wanted to be somewhere else,
someone else.
or at least fast forward a couple years.
me in college,
living in a small apartment with a friend or a lover.
it's raining in a couple years and i'll look up to the sky and smile.
i'll love and feel loved.
i wish time would go by faster.

the basement of depression
was where i learned my lesson:
temptations of death
are the feed of bad thoughts

i had to decide
to leave those habits behind
- it left me homeless
but in hope was where i lived.

under the bottom of rocks
life found ways to throw me down
But i kept on going
even if it meant by crawling

up the basement's stairs
i had no sight
but i was desperate
for something bright

So, i kept on going
kept on crawling
dragging myself
closer to light


;

1 drop
         2 drops
                     3 drops
                                   4
how many bodies have to hit the floor?

the sun will rise again
and life will have slightly changed

the moon will set again
and life, once again will rearrange