i am not a broken man

not forged by any broken bones

not crying for any lost memories

and yet i lay wondering

the moon looks lovely tonight

and i ate my favorite meals

so why do i still feel like something is gone

and when i look in the mirror

is that really me?

sometimes in the peace of the silence between everything,

i know what it’s like to be something i’m not.

a soft voice, a calm demeanor, a comforting hand,

in a weird way, i become what i know isn’t typical.

the stress in my eyes remain, but my wishes vanish,

and in that moment, i can recognize who we are.

though the moment ends, and my back tenses,

i wish someone would hold my hand and tell me the peace of 

everything.

who said life is forged by your own ambition, the liars,

and who said you could be what you wanted?

i wish i could dance with you, i wish we could chat about the stars,

but that’s not who the world decided i would be.

fate is a cruel wish, a genie of impossible design,

in which we live in contained contempt for what should have been.

so while that music is playing, and you move with the world,

i’ll show you the worth i’ve been given, and hope there’s something more.