Lost within the shallow boundaries of my so called life,
haven’t lived in bout a year and yet I seem to be alive.
Never really holdin on to what it seems I should hold dear,
maybe it’s experience or maybe it’s just childish fear.
See I never learned to love because it’s something I have lost,
only I know all the consequences: living hells the cost.
And I’ve never been the one to say that it’s all said and done,
but inside I know the truth: not a one of us has won.
But I hold out, waiting for the brighter days to come,
knowing full well the pit I’m living in, I have become.


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