The pendelum swings back and forth
awaiting the day that we will become,
a simple victim of our own crimes,
we've commited, unknowingly done.
We fall into the pit, unmistaken
for the guns that shoot to kill,
yet we've somehow been spared,
After all our guts were spilled.
We fight with our own shadows
though we know we'll never win,
and all those memories we obtain,
will remain trapped within.
In our souls, with dirty faces,
and our hearts claimed so vain,
we sit in forbidden silence,
alone with self-pity and disdain.
But we are all together
with one last chance at life,
sometimes when it seems too late,
we start over, ending the strife.
No more abuse to take
no more substances taking control,
we are walking in alignment,
as soldiers in youthful souls.
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