When is it ever gonna be enough?
Why can’t nice ever receive real good?
When can fear protect instead of leading to hate?
Why does love always end
before it ever begins?
How much of ourselves do we have to give
before we can begin to receive?
Too many times have we been burned
and yet strangers look at us-
These hollow vessels
and call it beautiful?
We are but shells
All we do is take in emptiness
and pour out love that was never ours
We give and give and give
until I can’t give anymore.
We are hollow shells of armor
knocked over by the slightest unexpected wind.
When can we let our walls go down?
When can we stop being afraid?
How can we ever be ready
when all we feel is pain?