Your a poet like myself so I think you understand me when I say
Our life isn't exactly ordinary...
You vent and rant on as if were making songs
We've painted our lives out for everyone to see
Decorated, like shelf's of old books and pictures
Every whisper you've said I've heard them all
I can see the stained tears, on your cheeks
You share the beauty, and despair with no vacancy in you
You spread the lesson's people need...
