There are a million things to celebrate,
yet, you befriend your regrets.
Its like life is offering you Pizza,
but you choose those damn cigarettes.
Hypocrisy wasn’t your mother tongue,
but you’ve been trying to make it your own.
For you picked me up from rock bottom,
but insist on suffering alone.
You feel like you’re in a plane, about to crash,
and you cannot locate your parachute.
I shout, I scream, I can save your life,
but I feel like you’ve put me on mute.
I stand with open arms and wide shoulders,
all you need to do is let go.
Let me prove it to you,
that you reap what you sow.
