This life is hard, hard and it kicks you in the face,
wait for you to get back up and kick you in the stomach,
but getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way
to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.
There is hurt here and spiderman, batman, superman is not coming,
and you may have to save yourself all by yourself.
Rain will always wash away everything if you let it and
when your body has internal flooding, it rains on your face,
salty water mapping tracks of emotions that can no longer be bottled.
There will be days like this when you open your hands
and you will only end up with blisters and bruises,
when you try to fly and the very people you are trying to save
are the ones standing in your cape,
there will be days when your boots will be filled with disappointment,
and they hand you handouts filled with war, hatred and heartache,
sprinkled with cynicism and defeat - then those are the days,
Those are the days when you have no other reasons
but to say thank you, like the way the night refuses to give up
no matter how many times the day runs away from it,
is how you should rise up no matter how many times you collapse.
Yes I make mistakes but life doesn't come with instructions,
and on the scale of one to over trusting I am pretty naive,
which is why people always take me for granted,
but this life is a journey and imagine if we traveled it,
imagine if we took life and lived it instead of examining it,
imagine if you could see the color of the wind while you ride it,
imagine if you gave other people opportunities you wish you had,
imagine if we lived life by every minute like it was the last,
imagine if we gave the poor the same opportunities as the rich,
imagine if removed the masks of "public benafactors"
and proved that they were just Robin Hoods,
then we will know that this life is hard but so very beautiful.