Here,

Inspiration dwindles within us,
Suffaction is beneath us,
Both looking for freshness and air,
Hoping we'll look up; that seems fair,
With so much to gain, and so little to lose,
Finding ideas from pain,
So many, its hard to choose,
We struggle, but for what?
Don't even question, which, and or but.
Just walk down the path and look through our surroundings,
All we're hoping for is just a little bit of foundings,
We pick out our hopes and dreams,
They shine as bright as lightning beams,
And somehow we make it,
Maybe we fake it,
But we always find a way to inspire,
It may be passion or desire,
So many questions, we don't wanna answer,
They ask, "How you do you deal?
"How's that make you feel?"
We give them a grin and say, "It makes me feel here, it makes me feel here."
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I dedicate that to everyone who will read this. Whether you get it or not. It's how I feel about us as an entirety. As a group. We all have stories that makes us who we are. Whether they be good or not, it's time to stop hiding. It's time to feel something. Just something...

We all make it through this harsh life day by day. It gets harder each step we take, but in the end when we look back on the view, we'll get it.

--daviduh.