as we sit formally and accordingly
it all comes to an end
the lives we have all been nurturing into a creature called "me"
are suddenly being introduced into the wild
chains are shattering, ties to those both despised and adored whittle away
as the sea of blue calms, winds will call into the abyss "This is your time!"
we have earned celebration
late nights, early mornings, investment into the future
hard work has paid off
an eggshell colored scroll skims the ever stretching lines across our palms
here
the flawless journey we have all lived
now
we are certified to dream
certified to live the perfect picket fenced life
but what no one will mention
no one will dare let pass their lips
is the truth
no one will mention this isn't the dream
the fence from the inside is an unfinished splinter infested divider
smothered in gloss finish paint to conceal the blemished
no one will mention the scars that have worn their hands over the years
it will be left unsaid
that hard work was paid off
late nights, early mornings, have been wasted
sweating through heavy eyes
deadlines
deadlines
dead lines out line the half circles beneath our souls
as we sip our addictions
living the routine that of middle aged business men
our bodies have been used up
used
to memorize
summarize
generalize a student body of scores
a generation of hole punched doors
no one will mention those they watched drown beneath it all
demons emerged and while some confronted and overcame
others became
became all they had swore to never know
and as broken pinkies hide behind our backs
and our outreached hand grasps another eggshell colored parchment
we can't help but wonder
this...this moment is our time?
it all comes to an end
the lives we have all been nurturing into a creature called "me"
are suddenly being introduced into the wild
chains are shattering, ties to those both despised and adored whittle away
as the sea of blue calms, winds will call into the abyss "This is your time!"
we have earned celebration
late nights, early mornings, investment into the future
hard work has paid off
an eggshell colored scroll skims the ever stretching lines across our palms
here
the flawless journey we have all lived
now
we are certified to dream
certified to live the perfect picket fenced life
but what no one will mention
no one will dare let pass their lips
is the truth
no one will mention this isn't the dream
the fence from the inside is an unfinished splinter infested divider
smothered in gloss finish paint to conceal the blemished
no one will mention the scars that have worn their hands over the years
it will be left unsaid
that hard work was paid off
late nights, early mornings, have been wasted
sweating through heavy eyes
deadlines
deadlines
dead lines out line the half circles beneath our souls
as we sip our addictions
living the routine that of middle aged business men
our bodies have been used up
used
to memorize
summarize
generalize a student body of scores
a generation of hole punched doors
no one will mention those they watched drown beneath it all
demons emerged and while some confronted and overcame
others became
became all they had swore to never know
and as broken pinkies hide behind our backs
and our outreached hand grasps another eggshell colored parchment
we can't help but wonder
this...this moment is our time?
