To the ones who accidentally Started to believe That their words Were not adequate means To achieve their dreams Or to change the world The ones who feel like their life's coming apart at the seams Because it seems The world's values are so different from yours. The recognition that you get doesn't compare to the applause that you deserve, right? Because nobody knows What goes on Behind closed doors, And you've told them, but they haven't heard right. We're used to flaccid mouths and turgid minds. It's a circle of morbid sanity, and I I stand in the middle. I represent turmoil And confusion And energy I don't know what to do with I am your turmoil And confusion. I'm the chaos in your head that sounds like music I am poetic verse; The sweetly sung lullaby That puts you to sleep at night when you cry. I am the single melody that says refrain From listening to the chorus, because they Are the ones Who made you believe That your words were not adequate means To achieve your dreams Because it seems like every time you try to speak, They shut you down, Call you rude, Say you have a sharp tongue But that just means you make cutting remarks And it tears the fabrics of their egos apart At the seams So, Keep cutting, As I thread my message together. I could stand here and deliver another speech about How poetry is the ultimate form of release and say "Write your heart out with the fervency you use When you go on your knees and pray." I could say That poetry is the ultimate form of beauty, And it's your duty to keep contributing. I could tell you what the writers will. I could tell you that when you write, you'll feel fulfilled. I could tell you all these truths in a cliché piece of generalisation, But that's not the point of what I'm saying; I'm trying to lead you to emancipation. My writing is not an act of community service. I write not for people, but for persons, To show them that being an individual Means being indivisible Not invisible. And if the only way I can do that is by being lyrical, I'll speak until my life's end I'll spend Every waking moment Building up momentum Until it's large enough to overcome the inertia of your stagnant heart. I do not come In solemn, silent peace. I come in loud, eloquent, elegant poise. I'm not here to calm the chaos, I'm here to make more noise. I say the pen is mightier than the sword. They say the sword needs strength, But I say the tongue needs more. You can do more than just cathartically write. You can use your words to fight Because I know that in your mind, there's a war. I know you say little because you believe that less is more. Yet you're full to the brim, And no one knows What goes on Behind closed doors. Remember, every second, every minute, every hour, Words are not your weakness, Words are power. Power to build a people or tear a nation apart, Power to give an empty wood man a heart, Power to create magnificent art. Power to write lyrics the ma**es will devour, The power to lead, The power to empower And if you wake And you feel inadequate I want you to tell A different story. Look into the mirror And tell yourself you're sorry For what you accidentally Started to believe To the ones who accidentally started to believe That their words were not adequate means To achieve their dreams, I've got one piece of advice, And with two words, I'll end: Chase them.