I miss the days when I woke up to pink and orange skies; sun beaming in my eyes — couldn’t fall back asleep even if I tried,
That’s okay, I liked it.
And I like to believe it was simpler then; when bills were my friends — on-time payments again and again, I felt strong because I could pay them,
now, we’re enemies — spent too much on luxuries; quick fixing remedies, sign said “HAPPINESS GUARANTEED …”
Don’t blame me… I’m trying.
Such innocence, such youth — such a pain to know the truth — life’s a pottery class and we’re the clay and everything we are is because someone shaped us this way.
We’ve been shaped this way…
And now I wake as the sun sets, pour my coffee with what little I have left, and try to live another day.
I’m trying. This life, it’s not easy; certainly, you must believe me.
I promise, I’m trying.