i’m the rock and the hard place,
so all be damned
when we blindly follow along
just to get on,
just to get by-
choose to live a lie
haunted by an eternal question:
writing is easy,
but singing is hard.
let me put all of my words within a box.
i hope you let me fill it all up with all of my dreams
within these four walls,
so we can create our own universe.
you know we can imagine a different way. a better way
that would be our own.
we think we’re so grown,
but still act like little kids-
afraid of forming opinions
for fear of opposing ones.
when i was 16,
i used to be so angry.
who am i kidding?
i’m still fucking angry.
but i don’t want to be so angry
for the rest of my life.
i got a son who means the world,
deserves the world, and with a fucking smile
even when i’m not feeling up to it.
he deserves the best of whatever world we can invent.
try to battle out all of my demons,
so as to not have to repeat them,
or transmit them to him.
i want him to be free of all of my emotional baggage.
i don’t want society to place limits for him-
for how high the ceiling should be,
but then neither should I.
i mean i gotta try
to see the light,
and make the world bright
with illuminated sentences and phrases.
i mean i’m not that little kid anymore,
and the weight of my past should not burden me.
if i’m to become the type of parent i want to be,
i can’t be
of the lonely lost dark empty anymore.
i’ve got friends, a son, and wife,
and soon we’ll have a daughter.
i’m not so lonely anymore,
or even lost.
perhaps a bit out of touch,
but it’s not so dark
inside of my heart.
some space’s opened up,
and it’s growing each day.