every punch I throw with my pen

doesn't land but I had to throw it

writing is the only time

my feelings feel valid

using my voice feels like

performing a song

to a empty crowd

I could pull on a hell of a show

I could totally bomb it

wouldn't matter no one saw it

they paid it no mind

these memories are embedded

in my mind

I've sat down and have listened

to others dreams

was it too difficult to do

the same for me ?

there's a chip on my shoulder

listening ears is the only thing

that can possibly remove it

I'm tired of being bitter I want peace