Us Against the World

The clock is ticking, and I'm running out of time I wish I was talented enough to pick up the mic and lace it with a rhyme But I'm not, so Im left with these blue lines on this paper Pouring out my feelings, doing this ink pen a favor Writing like today just might be last Looking towards the future, fighting with my past Losing a few battles, but I'm winning the wars Much happier than I ever was before A victim of pain, fate, and all that is in between This world has turned me into something cold and mean I wish I could express myself through an artistic drawing I try, but the pen and paper keep calling They keep saying my name and begging me to write My mind overflows with words; therefore, it does not fight My hands obey and pick up the pen I can feel my fingers as they load up with adrenaline I can feel the paper becoming one with my mind I have to write my thoughts down before I run out of time Man...this notebook and I have shared many pains We both know what it feels like to be left out in the rain So I choose to treat my notebook like its my only pearl Because as of right now, its just us against the world