If you're still standing,
You're a lucky one.
If you're alive, still hoping,
You're the lucky one.
The ravens have passed me countless times,
They made me write countless rhymes;
Trying to find the rhythm of my heart,
Like fitting broken pieces of art,
All of my efforts will never do
If I can't even get to you.
I know not of what true love is.
I know of what I feel is bliss.
I love deeply more than lust,
Yet I still bite the dust;
My heart's always been split into two;
I still think the other half is you.
I never know if you'd ever love me back,
And that is enough to feel alack,
My head keeps showing me memories,
It isn't nice, though they are pleasantries.
I hate that I miss your skin that smelled like sea,
I hate that I long the times when you laughed gullibly,
I hate that I still care after all these years of wishing,
I hate that I still love you, though you're never caring.
I wish you could read this,
But that would be something amiss;
Knowing my angels sing of your name,
Would be our destruction and I am to blame.
It's better to hide in muddy waters
Than to be clear and still break like none matters.
I'm still standing,
Why am I not the lucky one?
I'm still hoping,
**That's why I'll never be the lucky one.