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Here's to all the vanity,
of eventually becoming what you pretend to be,
of realizing it when it's too late,
of the things that don't matter that take over our lives.
And we build fortresses in our minds,
hazy grey fragile fortresses in the sand,
and we shelter all we have,
what we think is actually important,
oh so vain,
still so young,
still too much to know~
All it takes is one single drop of reality,
one single drop of what you perceive as freedom,
and the fortress snaps,
-like a wave during a storm storms off at the shallow rocks-
smashing away all thats in it,
leaving you trying to shelter everything,
by yourself,
fragile, like a fortress.
In an attempt to avoid sounding remotely vain,
I owe it to myself,
to whatever I have been,
to whatever I can be,
and to whoever has loved me the way that I've been,
to be all I can be, and a slight of more.
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