Maybe I'm Just Getting Older

Tiptoe Around the Grave

We tiptoe around our graves 

Travel the road we're cursed to pave

Lean in

Lean in

We'll be wary not to

Fall in

We hate being apart

We are scared of the dark

So we dream

We dream

With our eyes open

Lights on

To keep from remembering

That he is gone

We find refuge in the song

Step to the drum and come along

One dead

One equals all

But we don't see anything

Wrong

Our fate

Our fault

We've been like this

Since we were toddlers

We live as the sons and daughters of those who

Ended up like their fathers

Parents leave

Then we're crowned

As the ones bred to drown

Small homes

Lost hope

So they push their hands down on us

To keep us drowning

-Montika Smith