My True Story

No one ever gets what they want
And heroes don’t exist.
It’s why my music’s up so loud
And Hell’s inside my fists.

Let my heart hang on Cupid’s bow
For love’s a cruel charade.
The word itself is just a card
That’s vastly overplayed.

You’ll see the changes in my eyes
From pain remorse to hate.
A livid man who lives too lost
Is me living my fate.

My true story is locked away;
A shoe box on the shelf
I’m too scared to take a peek
And see the real “myself.”

I walk the streets and alleyways
Of questions in my head.
I’m tired of spending sleepless nights
Just wishing I were dead.

Don’t dare say it will be okay
Cause that’s out of my sight.
My true story’s on my back;
To stand takes all my might.

From time to time my knees grow weak,
My dreams hit the ground first
I can’t say that I’m feeling fine
When life is at its worst.

So I lay on a tainted floor
My hands reach toward the sky
I wish to find strength to push through
This plan that’s gone awry.

My true story is underneath
The stack of masks you see.
The ones I keep behind my door
To shelter the real me.

My True Story

Nathan Emery

Joined September 2009

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