Through

Just because you never see tears flowing from my eyes,
It doesn’t mean I don’t cry.
My heart cries out like a baby left by the wayside.
Inside I can feel my very being collide,
Collide with who I am and what others expect me to be.
My only wish is from this to be free.
Looking through my eyes, I see this world as a disguise,
A disguise of turmoil and despair.
Maybe this is the way it’s suppose to be,
No body is suppose to care.

My mind over thinks situations,
My heart over emotionalizes my fears.
My soul feels dry, as this drought has been lingering for years.

As soon as I think this famine of purpose is over,
I am disappointed by the reality that it won’t come to an end unless I demand it.
All along I’ve been living in my own cell of pity,
Not realizing that nothing will just be handed over to me.
What I need, I will have to put in work to achieve.
Nobody promised me this would be easy.
I am a woman; I feel the struggle of poverty and wealth,
But only I can determine who will win the championship belt.
I do what I have to do, in order to do what I want to do.
That means, I am through looking over my shoulders;
I am through thinking about you.