Give out my hand

i make my days like i would make a pizza
the more toppings I add the better it tastes
but how many toppings can i add
before the masterpiece i've created
crumbles in my hands like a broken vase

I wish i desired for things that others have wanted
I wish I would have strived
to find myself in the flames
like so many before me have

My life has not turned out like i would have expected
as a kid
I wanted to soar through the cosmos like a bird
I wanted to discover things at the farthest reaches of the universe
My life has not turned out like i would have expected
this world has so much hurt
so many people want for things
desire to find themselves in this giant sandbox
but their life is defined by where they are
they have no choice
the rumbles in their stomach
the fires that rage in the psyche

these people
they need help
they've been reaching their hands like beggers on a street
they're not asking for money
they're asking for help

i want to change the world
i guess im just a bit niieve
but I cannot explore the cosmos like i once desired
i cannot soar through space like bird in the sky
I cannot pass up these people who just want a friendly ear
a shoulder to cry on

now
I make my days like I would a sweet pie
the simplest ingredients needed are not numerous
the simplisity of this life
makes everything easier
so the pie will not burst with the weight
or intensity of my life
but will burst with flavor
like the fire in my chest
leading me down the street
so I can give out my hand.