We all have a story,
We all have a battle,
The battle of our life history
The good lord knew we could handle.
Our stories are private,
They are unique,
It’s just a simple facet,
That is remembered as ‘bleak.’
My story involves heartache and pain,
Yours may involve much worse,
It could involve hunger and strain,
Or it could involve guilt and remorse.
Everyone has a story to hide,
A reason their hearts hurt so,
A fight to fight,
While wishing it had ended long ago.
It could linger on your shoulder,
It could hide in your eyes,
Or it may be growing bigger
With each hurtful goodbye.
A story that isn’t open book
For the whole world to view.
It is for your eyes to look,
Maybe another person, too.
Yours and yours alone,
Something no one has seen
Meant for you, it’s your very own.
Something you never could have foreseen.
It starts when you feel a pain
It swells into something you’ve never known,
A feeling that comes again and again.
That feeling of being all alone.
I hurt myself, you may too
We have our own comforts,
Separating me from you.
Something that we always avert.
We all have a story we’ll never tell,
Maybe a mistake or traumatic tale
Of how we made it through the hell
Of life, and how you made it through that veil.
But there’s going to be one person
That will hold you,
And through every action,
Will go crazy and love you, because you’re you.
