We are not who we should be.
Maybe we’ve grown up too fast:
Playing like we can prophesy lifetimes
Just to open our eyes and realize that we can’t see what we have right in front of us.
That these moments spent playing cops and robbers with gats
Won’t end glad
I don’t care how many times my middle schoolers may beat me at Gran Turismo
They can not drive my car.
Ability does not equal responsibility.
And maturity ain’t currency,
And there ain’t nothing wrong with waiting patiently
Don’t we all miss our childhood, anyway?
These days are scenic breezes
Blow right past me as my eyes fix themselves in the distance
Still, I feel it all and can’t call it what it is:
Waiting ain’t ever changing nothing.
Sick of wishing I was elsewhere
This is beautiful.
I repeat it till I believe it
I see it, but being here is something different
They say spectators don’t really understand,
I’m starting to agree
This game ain’t the same as it looks
Still there’s something to be said for playing…
For the strain of pouring yourself out
Discovering parts of me I’ve never known about
Winning and losing become unimportant
I WILL WIN EITHER WAY
There’s no room for waste
I’m being recreated in stages.
As afraid as I am,
This is beautiful, no matter how many times I drop it.
I’ve done my best to make this a mess, but it’s still gorgeous,
Bless the Lord.