Cuts, scars, bruises


The routine I so well know


Life isn’t about the canoes and cruises


It’s about those people who row


Miracles happen, this I know to be true


It happened to me, it can happen to you


I was rescued from abusive parents


A drunkard and a druggy


My life shaped by the ignorance


They had for their only son


I was kicked around like a match of rugby


That no one ever won


But it’s nothing compared to the release I have now


The problem is, I have to, somehow,


Escape from the memories


I’m just running out of energy


So tired of the fear


That brings me back to those days


So tired of the hope


That pulls me every which way


I should be thankful, and I am,


It just seems that my life’s all "thank you ma'am"


But I haven’t really lived at all


I call it existence


Living is about revival


Fighting the very resistance


Existing calls for just survival


Survival of the fittest


Maybe I fall into that


Yet I feel like I drowned


But those things I endured


The stuff I had to witness


Did it make me stronger


Or just shoot me down?


The difference is in perspective


Which I can’t say I’ve got


And if I do, its defective


From all the times in the dark I’ve shot


But still I overcame it


And I believe in second chances

Take a picture; frame it


Then feel free to burn it to ashes