Escape From My Quiet Fight.

I am the one whose parents both love her,
Who has the benefit of knowing that
Family isn't always defined by blood,
Yet the comfort of blood and bond both are mine.

The one who is easy to like,
With a past not entirely regrettable
And an attitude to get used to
Because of what was done.

Always will my arms and my door be open,
Always may my friends know I'll listen.
Being there is what I've done and will do,
I'll stand silently, be that surety in need.

I've fought battles of my own, but so quietly
I'd thought nobody had noticed.
My battles were inside, for loved ones,
On decisions that must be made in private.

For so long I've known what my friends know,
That they have a place to go, to me,
A shoulder to cry on and an ear to vent to.
There is always a place to escape to.

And when I feel that I can no longer live so quietly,
Do I have the right to use the escape of my friends?
Where do I go to vent, when is it my turn to have problems?
They're not as bad, and in a way they feel just as.

My tears are just as real as yours, my worries.
The pain I feel isn't worse, in any sense.
But I feel it, and when the times comes, I am lost.
I wander aimlessly, wondering where I should go.

I'll tell you now what I should have known long ago,
That your escape can be mine in my own time,
Because those people care for us all.
I can struggle, and I can ask for help.