Sun bruised skin the crowd looks outward while I look in.
Subline thoughts run thru my mind, what will become of I ?
Dreaming of my future brings peace of mind but when I open my eyes reality hits and it feeds me no lies
opression,anger,hate, and excuses now, what will become of I ?
Can't pretend anymore shit has gotten real,wounds left open not even time can heal.
Questions burning my brain pure and unrated me in the raw same question what will become of I ?
Fucked up situations cant deny stress of even cry about what will become of I.
When it's all said and done my life isnt over and until that day I lie on heavens floor
I'll pack up my thoughts,questions and doubts put them in my back pocket and let God be the ultimate judge of what will become of I .
& thats all she wrote
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