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.