You've been hypnotized by the illusion of grandeur
the brilliance, and you’re not stopping to think:
...“Maybe I’m worth the truth.”
The bloom of youth is stripped from your heart,
you’ve lost it, crying on the telephone, no resilience left
there’s no one home and you’re naked,
bare and devoid of emotion, it’s like a frozen ocean
waves cresting up, and you’re down and out
you’re cracking, life is not what it should’ve been,
expectations would’ve been less
if you hadn’t been encouraged by the shiny spawn
of those media-machines, flipped through and through
‘til the pages were worn, it’s the system pulling you down.
“I’m not good enough,” he sobbed into his hands
with the curtains drawn, but you’ve got to push on,
and on, and on; can you lose the tragedy,
the heavyhearted, sorry semblance of a man
you think you should be?
It’s sad but true, as much as you try there will always be someone better,
better and more fit for the job, the test, the class, the girl, everything
but first and foremost you will always know
you tried your finest or at least you think you did
and feel blessed, and loved by the people who know you best,
if you remember that you’re like a grain of sand on the beach,
one amongst millions, but still beautiful in your own way
just have confidence.