Truth

I think that God does indeed have a sick sense of humor...

"Truth"

Times I sit
Wonder why
Get caught up
That I'm denied
The eyes they wear
To see the world

Wonder why
Within my head
I must be black
For words to tread
Wonder why
It takes denied
For me to feel it's right

It's true that I
In sorrow play
It's true in blue
I do awake
But cursed am I
To be this way

Times I sit
Wonder why
Cloudy sky
Makes me high
Why I love
When there's only pain

Wonder why
Despite my tries
To play this game
It's true that I
Too many nights
End up the same
Buried in my misery
Pages deep
No sooner free
Yet it feels so right

It's true I cry
But they don't see
Wish that I
Could feel the dream
Just out of reach
I always seem
The way my mind makes it right

I've tried to love
Tried to hate
I've tried to fit
But not one bit
Ever last the night
Out of touch
And out of place
From finish to start
I run the race
That's when it feels so right...
©2009clarencecbess