Running in Circles
Sometimes my blessings aren’t counted
and at times my hopes are doubted.
I’m the quickest to dish it out and point the finger,
but my own toughest critic, when I look in the mirror.
I mistake my selfish ways, for dazed, by many helpless days.
I’m surrounded by love, but what is that feeling,
if I could, I would reciprocate, but I don’t know the meaning.
It’s a Full House but I’m Home Alone.
I’m a landline, in an era, of cordless phones.
As I walk around, fakin’ saying cheese,
this whole act, in its extreme, is a disease.
It’s sad it takes death, for people to make steps, to embrace what you gave,
on an everyday basis.
Time doesn’t stop, it just races.
To only be missed when your gone, it’s all wrong,
why does it take for one to pass, to know that he belongs?