Day after day, night after crisp cold night
I stare out my window wondering what's outside.
What can be waiting for me so it can happen
What can I do to make this world a better place.
Pondering of these thoughts birth ideas and dreams...
Ideas and dreams that if it were to come alive and let all the hope buried deep inside trying to release itself and make my world a brighter day.
I end up at a desk trying to draw or write a way.
Trying to make a path to this feeling deep inside and I sit and stare at the red ink on the paper
but its not... Its the blood from my hand because I'm holding onto then pen so tight
hoping that if I keep writing and drawing my dreams will come alive and won't have to worry about what I feel inside.
Cuz by then I would understand that what I dream can come to life If I just believe...
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