Darius

are you wasting your time or am I wasting mine

throw me away over the edge

I ran through snakes on the way out

 

it is a competition

the songs I used to play for fun and joy

became a metric of what I am worth

and how I'm treated by strangers

I am taking a sip although I'm full and afraid it might kill the fire

are you over it or is it actually over?

but with the sound of an empty hall

your words become bigger

if it was just you and I

you'd still stay, you'd still play

what if it works out?

can you still enjoy the art that you crafted?

does it remind you of the fear that you're mediocre

what if it works out?

if it works out, will you be happy?