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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
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