Tornadoes and earthquakes, forgotten birthdays,
days when the wind and the rain seem to burn.
Broken souls, hearts filled with holes;
yet a careless world will continue to turn.

Unsung heroes, drowned out cheers go
floating down a lonely road on the wind.
But something, somewhere, in the back of the mind,
gives you the urge to just stand up and sing.

Forgotten birthdays, tornadoes and earthquakes,
fires and liars and soulless deceit.
They'll all chip away, and force you astray
but you can choose to get back on your feet.

Bang on the drums, scream out your lungs,
make sure that the whole world knows that you've spoken.
If you wish but can't reach, stand on your seat,
after all, rules are made to be broken. 

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed