Touch The Stars

Tomorrow I am working with Tim. This weekend I am going to my cousins wedding at The Bethel Hotel. The first day of school is in a week and my mood fluctuates from excitement to nervousness. Oh boy...

Inside these corridors,
away from the horrors,
of the reality that lurks outside,
someone walks down a "high wire"
above insecurity's blazing fire,
as he decides if his life is true,
He wonders if there is meaning,
in the eyes he sees gleaming,
or if they are all insincere,
Sometimes he is a clown,
who is held upside down,
and then sometimes he is a saint,
He longs to be loved,
likes others who are beloved,
that seem to beleaguer him,
When he looks at the sky,
he sometimes wants to cry,
for he wants to just touch the stars,
When people he cares for,
go through his house door,
he sometimes has to hide,
He knows they love him so,
but he still has doubts, you know,
he thinks everyone has a mask,
Trust comes very scarce,
and his brain is sparse,
conclusions seem to have agility,
So in these corridors of his mind,
where it is hard for him to find,
the truth between life and living,
Hoping for some grace,
to come and take strife's place,
and he will then be able to touch the starts.