The boy and his sorrow.

The boy who laughs at his sorrow, Will only become a man spent hollow.
Your pain is your own,
make it your grace.
Find strength in the dark and take stake in your soul.
So what if you've not been dealt the best hand?
Play your bluff and make jokers of fortune.
You're an artist whose greatest work was the facade you painted.
You're an architect whose greatest monument was the walls you feigned.
Every soldier has their shield, only a fool would be without.
There's promise for you, deep behind a mind rife with doubt.
You're the chorus yet written of a ballad world famous.
You're the spark of a match that sets this tired city aflame.
So boy, if you think you'll find peace,
Pack your bag, take sail on the seas.
Leave this life never content with the tide,
And set out to take this world in your stride.
Don't let the ink go dry, etch your story on your skin.
Your heart is honest, to live without passion would be your sin.


Just know when you go, to me you were more than a sorrow filled boy.