When clouds go rolling by they leave what once was mine.
As the mine that writes these lines, you realize why our brains are the bricks that must be built hoping not to be kicked down...
When I hear the sound of big feet I tremble in my seats which unfortunately are the bricks.
When the sound goes down I feel the power that once was mine
Dream, Passion, and bricks are all I have left.
Once these were gone I became a fighter...
A person...
A person that must fight to be heard...
A person that must fight to get what once belonged to them.
But when you look up, we are all fighters.
But I do not yet know this...
Who am I?
Who are you?
Who are we?
We are the ones that speak up...
We are the ones that fall down...
We are the ignored...
We are the annoying......
I'm a fighter
We are all fighters, coming across one another.
Is it meant to be?
Are we drifting apart like we're on a sea?
All my life I will have questions.
But which questions will be answered?
Am I invisible?
Am I invisible because I have a dream?
Am I invisible because I have Passion?
Or am I invisible because I don't want these bricks?
No...
I am invisible because no one chooses to listen to the voices...
I want you to have a dream...
I want you to have passion...
I want you to let go of the bricks...
I want you to have power over the stomping...
I want you to make yourself powerful...
Because you get a start by giving yourself a start...
So start...
Give yourself that start...
Or else the stomper might destroy you...
And after you are destroyed you will always be stuck being nothing but a fighter...
