I’m out here, surviving barely
But I’m here,
Painting places with my fingers
Trying to figure me out.
Yes trying to find my path
See my vision,
Digging deep underneath
The doctor’s incision.
Purpose on prose for what I suppose
May be the story of life.
Faded glory of nights
Painted with pride;
And as morning arrived
I actually thanked God to be alive.
Have you ever stumbled upon
A path made with hidden gems?
Have you seen sun rays as they
First pierce through the sky.
This resembles my high.
Made in pain, carved in understanding that no one else could comprehend.


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