Someday,
these words I write I’ll eventually say.
That old guitar I might remember to play.
My dreams will find a way,
when there’s hope for someday.
And next year,
I might find I’ve lost another fear,
but along with loss gained another tear.
The words I write you might never hear.
Why I still get up and try,
I can’t lie, I don’t truly know.
But I will myself to rise,
dry my eyes and give it a go.
Tomorrow
I may create a smile from my sorrow,
while living on the time that I borrow;
goes by so fast but feels so slow.
Why I get up and try,
I can’t lie, I don’t truly know.
Because I have yet to die
make a name for I and will it so.
Someday,
these words I write I’ll eventually say.
Create colours in this world of grey,
do my best to make them stay
if there is still hope for someday.