Happy.

So I'm sitting in a library and felt a strong urge to write. It happens. This was the result. It's sad, morbid, and depressing, but I had to write it. I'm not even entirely sure the full stretch of what it means to me. I think it has a lot to do with isolation........it's not perfect by any means, I just wrote it on a whim, but here it is.


We walk on this road paved with our dreams
where nothing is ever just as it seems
we walk with closed fists, eager to fight
to prove to ourselves that we were all right
we're beaten and torn, as we stumble and fall
and with all of our strength we begin to crawl
crawl to our dreams and crawl from our shame
crawl from being able to take the blame
with hope in our hearts we slowly trudge on
as the strength in our bodies is soon to be gone
with one final surge we finally give out
and the hope in our heart is soon filled with doubt
we cry out for help to the world all around
but the world responds without making a sound
with one last breath we look to the sky
another fatality from dreams that die