They say that anything worth having is worth fighting for.
I wonder if everything you must fight for is worth having.
A cool, gentle breeze of persuasion
brushes against my burning skin,
refreshing as anything I've ever felt,
and I know I'm close to home.
So long, trapped inside a prison
(a shell of my choosing; I stepped inside by choice),
I've forgotten what the world looks like
outside.
But he cared.
He cared enough to come along and make a crack;
a crack in these restrictive walls
means I can break free when I want.
Peace is a state of mind that anyone can achieve,
and I wouldn't have gotten here without him,
and I would never have known what I was missing.
And I have to say thanks.
I agree that anything worth having is worth fighting for.
And if you have to fight, you better make sure it's for what you want to have.
