Talent was not worth it, Until it turned into skill Rise against the odds To go in for the **** Thought it was supposed to be silky smooth, Thorns in a bed of roses lay still Hate it for the un-nerving truth Victory accompanied by a sunken face And a broken tooth, What once was A mountain to climb, Now within my reach The peak of ascent Toiling along the way A threshold to breach, A view so spectacular I could live there forever Alas, the only thing worse, Than an incoming frown Is the dream I was having Of getting to the top Without ever putting a foot down, A ghost of perdition A drunken semaphore of Nihilistic fortitude Scarring enough to even put Any effort in the journey, Thinking all I had was What I ever needed.
The blues seems to suit my heavy heart, May give me the fuel to finally kickstart.