deepundergroundpoetry.com

We carry on.

Once, when I was a young girl,
My mother told me I had a future,
And could be anything in the world.

We were in the big steel city,
To watch the marching band,
And my mother was holding me.

I remember those rare moments of happiness,
Of the warmth you once shared,
Those few shared moments of closeness.

Now I am nearly an adult,
And I'm so fucked up,
And it's all your fault.

So I went back to that city,
And watched the new marching band,
And you, as usual, weren't with me.

I grabbed my microphone and threw up a fist,
And screamed into that mic with all my heart,
"We carry on!" Because I was frustrated and pissed.

And so I sang loud,
"We carry on, and though you're not here,
I am me and I am fuckin' proud!

Though your laughter remains in my mind,
Making me squirm and cry in pain,
I am not that same girl you used to find,

Bleeding out in the bath tub!
We carry on, we carry on!
You aren't going to beat me, push and shove!"

And how those people threw their hands,
Up into the air and sang along,
Those people all understand,
The meaning behind my broken song.
Written by Cinny
Published
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