I’ve never known how to play the game, no one showed me how.
I’ve struggled and failed many times,
I’ve wanted to throw in the towel.
With every passing failure and with every broken vow,
I’ve lived, I’ve loved and grown somehow into the person
I am right now.
I’m not a finished work you see, there is much for me to learn.
Yesterday, is history, where all of my bridges are burned.
I can’t go back if I wanted to, my life has taken a turn.
Tomorrow is but a mystery, leaving much for me to discern.
As I struggle through the dreaded strife
I attempt to mask the shame.
I play the role of a loving wife and try not to cast any blame.
The visible wounds are deep and rife, healed when my life is reclaimed.
But the blood will stay on anarchy’s knife until the end of