Yet somehow I keep going.
The sun rises every day
even though mostly I don't want to play.
I see the scars on my sisters cheek
But secretly I know it wasn't "a tree".
I watch as my father gets tears in his eyes
but the call from jail is no surprise.
I witness each day the prejudice shown
yet who gets hurt will never be known.
I make the choice each day to smile
even if things haven't been going my way for a while.
Even when others don't see me weep
I still cry myself to bitter sleep.
Yet somehow I keep going.
A miscariage baby is just too sad
even when it wasn't the dad's.
They couldn't care less what I do
I don't remember the last time I was told "I love you".
Still, I feel the warmth of God with me
because it'll be okay, it's gotta be
And yes I spent lots of time in a hospice
but I'm pretty sure that we all did
And though mom died despite our prayers
it's wasn't more than I could bare.
And at night when the sun goes down
Inside myself I still drown.
Yet somehow I keep going.
Why is it that I can watch the news
people talk but they never do?
Why is it that my friends expect my advice
yet when I need it they think twice?
Each day I watch the dark night sky
yet I never see a shooting star fly.
I detested my dad for moving on
it's been so short and I feel like he's always gone.
And I wouldn't care that my sister's not married
if only she it wasn't HER infant she'd carry.
And though I press forward through everything
still deep down, I don't feel like anything.
Yet somehow I keep going.