give.

i’m tired, very tired. so i’m writing in the sands,

about how  lately things keep slipping through my hands, my hands. 

like little broken tree limbs, washed up on the shore. 

and i’m a little child, wishing wanting, dreaming of more. 

lately i’ve been tired, i’ve been dreaming of some peace.

a place where i can rest, find some dreams, find some ease.

but lately i’ve been giving, giving more than what i own. 

giving, growing, learning, all the seeds that must be sown. 

oh but can’t you see i’m tired of this giving with my hands

 my mind’s all dried up, empty, my heart’s in foreign lands. 

and i feel like each and every ounce of love i’m giving out 

gives back to my mind an exponential increase of doubt.

i wonder sometimes if i’ve just boxed up my heart, 

but i’m not feeling pain lately, and i guess that’s a start.

i wonder if it’s wise, or if i’m just a fool 

to play with tears and feelings, to bend all of the rules. 

but oh, i tell you something, my life’s a paradox

and every single stereotype it throws away and mocks. 

my heartbeat thuds away within my lonesome chest,

a solitary beat that tells me i’ll be lonely, at best.

maybe lonely wouldn’t be so hard if only i could see,

if i could let go, open up my heart, realize, just be. 

nothing’s quite the same as they say, when they write it down,

no, my life’s an oxymoron, like some sad pathetic clown.

i build myself sand castles near the shore, on the beach

and watch as every grain of sand slips just outside my reach. 

i know that it’s pathetic, that it’s a useless game

yet my hands keep reaching for the sand, always the same. 

You take, and then You take, and then you ask me yet for more

and i wonder how many more castles will be built upon this shore

How many times will you ask, will you ask, will you take?

How many more times can I bend before I break?

I’m only little, i’m only young, I cannot understand

Why my castles crash and break upon this brittle sand. 

i wander up the beaches, among the rushing tide.

i wander deeper in the ocean, my heart gaping wide

i cry among the waters there, salty bitter tears

i open up my heart, confess my deepest fears

i only want to give, i tell You, i only want to give.

but lately this whole life has gotten harder just to live. 

lately when i reach inside my gaping heart

i find nothing but air, nothing to give, nothing to start. 

i wish i were a craftsman, a maker of great things

but all my best intentions seem knotted up, like strings.

i thought i’d draw a picture, sing a song, paint a painting

but with so few talents drawn together, my heart grows to fainting

even my words, drawn together, are lacking

the syllables and vowels slip away, they are slacking. 

i’m tired, God I’m tired, I’ve been trying for so long,

to write, to sing, to perfect some stupid silly song. 

i guess what i’ve been failing at is finding love in me, 

but you know that i’m empty, empty will i ever be. 

but lately i’ve been dreaming that i’m filled, i’m filled

with nothing more than some extreme power of will

some overpowering, overpouring strength of perfect love

that gives my tired, burdened hands the strength to live, to move.

they tell me it’s not possible to give when you having nothing

but i’ve been doing it lately, and i guess that’s something.