There are some Who age too fast To keep up With the trend
There are some Who say age is nothing But numbers
There are some Who need numbers To help them Feel their worth
There are some Whose numbers Don't add up Till the end
There are some Then there are others...
There are some Who like to wander With thoughts Loose in their minds
There are some Who spend their lives Thinking 'bout feelings Of all kinds
There are some Who believe that It's too late to Trust your heart
There are some Who'll stand in your way When they know You'll make it safe
There are some Then there are others...
There will always be The one
There are some Then there are others... And there will always be The one.
Was feeling a little blue a few days ago. Felt like it was too late to reach for my dreams. Felt like I was stuck in the same pickle for all my life. Someone told me it'll be told late. Heck, everyone has told me that. They told me it's too late to pursue to my dreams after a certain age. Something tells me if I'm stuck in this same pickle for all these years, I must still have a chance. If pickles last that long and time doesn't stop for that, then why would there be a limit for my possibilities?