Our Fight
"Beautifully damaged" that's what they say
But really they ruined that person's day.
Broken that's what we are, with scars and pain
Alone or not, that's what felt either way.
In the day time, we're all smiles and laughter
A facade, but it disappears after.
Alone, they are breaking down bit by bit,
Sobbing, pain, agony: a disaster.
Sometimes if we are lucky, we can talk.
If not, we will break and snap just like chalk.
Feelings bottled up for a while, explode.
The aftermath sends people into shock.
Maybe, just maybe, we'll find our light,
That will keep us alive, through our fight.
We may feel like we are at our end.
But this is just the moon blocking the light.
