He Lives, He Writes, He Lives

He didn't write as much,
I guess he didnt have much to say
And he firgured, what he'd say
didnt matter anyway
But he lived, he wrote, and he lived

Some one told him - once he grows a bit older
His pen would become more worn.
& with instensity, passion, emotion
on every line new lyrics were born
And so he lived, he wrote, and he lived

As the years claimed his youth, his loves remained the same
And it took him the hardest to adjust that
each love would cause the same pain.

Simling and shinning for someone elses good
Giving and protecting doing what he thought he should
Paving ways for the underdog & encouraged others too
But No one ever knew what he was going through
Yet he lived, He wrote, and He lived

He didnt protect himself, always ready for stability
yet his imaginations scariest happening
Became his own reality

YET almost every victory belongs to him
Because in his world his mind always wins.

But every morning shows his smile as though it never has begun
Because he consists of this one thing
Believe in all, Trust in Few, & Depend on None

And I keep living, and I keep Writting, and I keep living

-lamarr (mmadluv7)