The Gray
The fact of the matter is that the facts don't matter.
As a matter of fact, lacking tact and all class
I'd call the facts a right pain in the collective ass
of anyone who's ever known hope, love, or pain
and to every single person trying to keep themselves sane.
This game that we play, tug-o-war, keep away,
We strive to explain all the loss to our brains
As we walk and we talk and we drop more than names
and all the time tell our children this is not all in vain.
The struggles that we face are not all in vain.
Large or small, short or tall,
Black or white, scatter brained or on the ball
Demons they battle, everyone, one and all.
Be it abuse, money, lust, drugs, self worth, or alcohol.
Darkness and light compromise in the gray,
And for now compromise will help us to stay
Up above the dirty water that we tread every day,
And the verses that we write and rhymes that we lay,
Will help us to keep all our demons at bay.
The words on the page keep our demons at bay.
This life can be hard and these times even harder,
But success can be found if sought after with ardor.
Now I'm going to hijack some old dusty cliches,
See, the trick is to always live for today,
Let tomorrow worry about itself for a change.
What will be will be were the words spoke to me,
And after all that I've seen I still believe in a dream.
Beyond the clouds and beyond the days lacking sunlight.
We can make up a life where if we go down we still fight,
Get back up, and keep on, keeping our goal in mind,
It's about belief in ourselves and what's in front, not behind.
The past is the past so leave it behind.
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