so is this the american dream, another child dead at fourteen
a victim of no self-confidence and an inability to understand
that tomorrow is not today
you are not your mistakes
pure
free
anything you needed to see,
that tomorrow is not today
you are not your mistakes
and if i could breathe you back i would
the youngest(oldest) child misunderstood
deserving to bloom, to grow through the cracks,
to make it to spring and sing
that tomorrow is not today
you are not your mistakes
but its far too late
and no matter how hard i scream these echoes wont carry you back to me
but i will carry your name close to my chest, for family, for friends to never part
to understand
that tomorrow is not today
you are not your mistakes
i hope my words whisper through these trees
and find you sweetly (softly)
and carry you as above as you've felt so beneath
a cleansing song
a solid soul
you are finally free to realize
that today is not tomorrow
and you are not your mistakes.