THE STRUGGLE OF LIVING

I am no hero, Never said I was. But, I am no coward either, I have bloodied my knuckles just because. I am certainly no angel, My soul is a little worn. If you look closely behind my facade, You'll see my heart is torn. I have been there, done that, Laid awake in the lonely hour. Waiting for that spark, that light That flame to ignite the power. Only to have the sun rise again, Without the answers I seek. So, I wake, I work and I toil, I continue to fight to reach that peak.