I have a better recollection of my scars than my smiles
As if my journey hasn’t conquered hundreds of miles
That’s the mind; a fine piece of abstract art
Recollect the struggle never the start
Tough nights, thoughts galore
Beat up my mind I’m all sore
It isn’t all what it appears to be
The mind is like the sea
Your in the middle of it all and you can’t forsee
It’s dangerous on your lonesome
But you can’t go back from where you came from
Time doesn’t benefit you in that manner
That’s life a race between time and your mental glamour
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