You struggle to stand,
hell you struggle to sit.
You give everything you have,
but it’s the bottom of the pit.
And then comes the point,
when you simply lay back.
You stare at the ceiling,
And you simply lose track.
Of the hours, the days, yourself,
and your loves.
You wish it would just simply end,
and you pray to above.
“God, I am broken,
and I think it went far enough.”
“I know that it’s shameful,
but I simply can’t get up.”
I know you could heal me,
and fix me if you try,
but the damage is done,
so please let me die.
Let my dad remember,
his son before this,
and let my momma remember,
her little boys kiss.
Let my son remember,
the daddy I was,
his best friend and hero,
who towered above.
I’m just tired right now,
of trudging through hell,
and I try to stand up,
but there’s nothing left in the well.
I’m so tired, so tired,
so it’s now in your hands,
either leave me on this floor,
or help me to stand.
If you leave me, then I’ll understand,
I’ll understand that you did what you can.
Just promise me this, and then I’ll give up,
please sure my son turns into a good man.
Thank you
