Poetry/Music

Starry Skies

First Verse:
I am questioning the years to come which might seem extremely dumb to some, but listen my dear chum.
Such as now, I'm living day by day with little to say while on a word limit near a summit is where everything seems to plummet.
Just seeing smiling faces with their own goals and races with a hand filled with aces while focusing on their daily basis.
While I am observing in the back with the knowledge of my crash in class that's going to be fast like the past.
My view on the world seems to crumble every time I stumble and fumble, even if I try to stay humble, but it seems to be practically bumble.
While knowing my vision definitely needs revision, but my mind is in division in that decision to make that incision without very much precision.
Just trying to do something different seems to bring the bad luck more apparent, so I rather remain in the back silent.
Because I open up too much just to be slammed shut after a deep cut, while the pressure needs to be relieved before getting more bitter while feeling as if I am stuck in the gutter that can't have any sort of words fill them while being desolate, even when I seen it coming, I ran straight just to see the escape gate is locked, I guess that's an au fait on fate.
So, I look back with slack, seeing all the happy people holding hand by hand to stand while the lights turn off on me while I am stuck in the darkness just watching.
All I can do is keep living, right?

Chorus:
We already shoot for the moon going like a harpoon just to miss and reach the stars.
So, hold your hand up high to the sky with a sigh nigh, not wanting our hopes to die.
That's the truth, I know it probably hurts and comes at you in gigahertz.
With tears falling like shooting stars that all those memoirs mention that no matter how fast your sports car goes, you're never get to the bars of expectations that reach Mars.
The starry sky is never alone and shine like some gemstone, while the sky is hopeful, it is like a graveyard in the way that each star be some tombstone.
Most of the people who reach the skies just get there by dumb luck from the slum, or the scum whose wallet is plump like a plumb while I am stuck alone on Earth just looking to the sky while numb seems to be the outcome.
All I can do is smile while saying goodbye to passerby as they fly.

Second Verse:
Here comes another round, gather round, gather round, and ready to stand astound to start watching two other hearts pound while they found each other.
A sacred happiness is made, and all I can do is watch with a fist gripped pissed that I keep amidst the mist never being seen until I only exist when they need me to assist when they fall for some recidivist with my heart remain like a schist.
Just get in the corner, as fear derives and go into overdrive, with my mind taking another dive into the deep sea where no light can't penetrate that sort of terrible fate.
Eyes becoming lifeless, the monotone voice only showing triteness, falling into an internal crisis keeping silence, being spineless, and mindless.
Just at the bottom with nothing but stress while trying to compress and suppress the emotions while work shows no progress, but I digress.
I can always swim up to the surface, but I just want to hide my face to my knees, trying to commit to catharsis even if it is like Icarus.

Chorus Again: