History is a nasty bathroom stall,
And I'm just looking to put,
"I was here" on that wall
In a way that nobody else
Could ever perpetrate,
Or discriminate,
Or let alone hate.
I want to press that felt tip
So hard against the stall
That I don't have to worry at all
About me losing my place.
I want to put the "I",
To signify I made that impact.
That was me.
I want to put the "was",
To symbolize that long ago
I was also struggling to become great,
Struggling to become known,
In this world of unknowns,
Where people die before they grow,
I was here with a roar not a moan,
And I made it to this stall
With my marker,
Felt tipped and eagerly dripping.
I am here because I was struggling.
I was lost,
I was not found,
And that is why I am here.
Here...
I want to put the "Here",
To show there is a light at the end of the tunnel,
There is a pot of gold under each raincloud.
Here, is where your struggles,
Ambitions, and ambiguity towards purpose,
Become a name in history.
