Trying not to cry
I fall on my knees.
I scream and try
to live, for me.
My journey, my life,
I know it's not over.
It's followed by strife,
then why bother?
Why not lay down?
Just give up
Tired of being Suffering's clown,
and Misery's mop.
But still I stand,
my knees are weak,
there's blood on my hands,
and I'm at the peak
of the mountain top.
Maybe I'll jump, fly
over life, the green crops,
but I know yet, I won't die.
