I hope that my tears
Can write the script for you
When I am at a loss for words
Because I never know how to form the phrase
"I don't have all the answers"
I've trained myself
In the art
Of mask making
I have learned how to
Sculpt perfection
And mold it to my face
A disguise so that they don't see
The boiling black
Of the god-forbidden unknown
So I don't have to see
Their bewildered looks
When I respond with indifference
When my life plan was meant to be
Tattooed on my forehead
For that would be better suited
To calm their nerves
I don't have all the answers
I don't have all the answers
I don't have all the answers
I wish I could give you more
I wish I had more to give
But all that's left of me
If you dare uncover the mask
Are mascara streaks and
Hallowed out, fear stricken eyes
My shaky hands tried to draw the map
Everyone was shouting at me
But I have since broken
The tip of the pencil
I don't have all the answers
I don't have all the answers
I don't have all the answers.
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
I hope that my tears
Can write the script for you
When I am at a loss for words
Because I never know how to form the phrase
"I don't have all the answers"
I've trained myself
In the art
Of mask making
I have learned how to
Sculpt perfection
And mold it to my face
A disguise so that they don't see
The boiling black
Of the god-forbidden unknown
So I don't have to see
Their bewildered looks
When I respond with indifference
When my life plan was meant to be
Tattooed on my forehead
For that would be better suited
To calm their nerves
I don't have all the answers
I don't have all the answers
I don't have all the answers
I wish I could give you more
I wish I had more to give
But all that's left of me
If you dare uncover the mask
Are mascara streaks and
Hallowed out, fear stricken eyes
My shaky hands tried to draw the map
Everyone was shouting at me
But I have since broken
The tip of the pencil
I don't have all the answers
I don't have all the answers
I don't have all the answers.
You know that time in your life when you are a senior in high school and people keep asking you where you are going to college and what your major will be and what your future career will be and you say some ******** answer because you truly have no idea? Yeah, this poem is about when I realized it's okay to say "I don't know yet" because the truth is the other people don't really care that much and there is no need to try to comfort them with a fabricated truth. It's okay to not know and it's okay to be absolutely terrified, that's life.
