Fighter

Fighter

Life hurts.

More than they ever said it would.

But you know that,

Cause you've been fighting the good fight since the day you were born.

A boxing match that's left you wounded, bleeding and torn

Sad, lonely, And worn.

Life is trying to knock you out,

But it's been simply unsuccessful.

You know why?

Cause you’re a fighter with a bandaid soul,

Healing and feeling better and better each day.

So no, you are not defined by these scars.

No, they are simply shooting stars marked across your wrists,

Fizzled, burned out, they no longer exist.

Although they were once a desperate wish,

They now remain powerless, lying beneath your tightly clenched fists

Those fists.

The fists of a fighter of  an undesired war that wages on

Between you and the soldiers in your mind.

It's one against all the men they can find,

But you cannot and will not,

I repeat you CANNOT and WILL NOT

Be beat.

For although

You do not want to fight this war.

You did not pick it

Nor did you train for it

You WILL win it.

You, fighter,

You will go on to do great things.

So don't stop the movie before the good part comes.

Cause Life is music kid, and God already designed you with the ultimate bassline placed inside your chest,

Pounding and beating, it will not rest.

So move to the rhythm,

Keep your head up,

As well as your heart,

As well as those fists

Make it through,

And conquer that shooting star wish.