Life is strange,
No matter who you are.
Each of us affect each of us,
Everyone's fate keeps changing,
its twists and turns bizarre.
Childhood is a bliss,
I'm sure you remember.
Carefree laughs and the impossible dreams,
Nothing's ever boring if you can laugh and cry and scream,
Blessed are the days when we ran for happiness,
And blessed are the days when
dreams weren't restricted to slumber.
The middle is a time of realisations,
Your flaws, your dreams and limitations.
The cries, the dreams, all become private,
Every mishap makes you hide yourself a bit more,
Life has a way of making you keep the doors closed.
Soon the dark becomes your friend,
And it's easy to get lost.
Then someone finds a key to the door,
Or if you're lucky, throws bricks till it goes down.
Sometimes it's butterflies,
Sometimes a punch in the gut.
Or if you're lucky, maybe both at once.
It might take time, to hold the door ajar,
To learn to live, relearn to laugh.
When you think you've seen it all,
a new story is spun.
All our lives are a brand new cliché,
I can't say there's a happy end to it all,
I haven't seen it yet.
Those who have, alas, cannot tell.
Life begins when it begins,
Life ends when it ends,
All our lives are but stories,
Not every story is supposed to end.