Majority

There is nothing personal
about the majority.
It's in the facts that we live as one.
All going through hell,
it's not fun.

You can't raise your hand,
and expect to be the only one in the polls.
We all hurt, we all know, and we don't know where to go.
Sometimes we give it all up.

That's where the world is split.
Some of us go on to support our life,
and other fall like a broken bridge.
Others crack, but are still driven.

Liars, fakes, and cheaters.
We all know how it feels to hate.
And as I look into your lost eyes,
I wish I wasn't the one you took it all out on.

As I try to make it all better,
I wished I could erase all the errors.
But I can't and you're all smudged.
If I could, I would of given you my hands..

I would of given you my hands to hold onto.
To use when you were falling,
I would get on my knees when you were crawling.
I would trace my fingers over yours.

But it was all over before you had a chance
to allow all this to happen.
I joined the majority,
and I didn't even get one lap in.