Litty

Denny Faught FaughtConcrete streets where the shadows stretch long, Where the weak get consumed and they test all the strong. I was born in the middle of a midnight storm, Where the cold is the standard and the struggle is the norm. They say pressure makes diamonds, but it also breaks bones, When you’re walking through a crowded city feeling so alone. I got bills on the table and ghosts in my head, Counting up the promises and all the things they said. It’s a heavy rotation, just trying to survive, Working minimum wage just to keep the dream alive. ​They don’t see the silent battles fought behind closed doors, Sweeping up the shattered pieces on these hardwood floors. Every setback is a weight that I carry on my back, Trying to stay on a rail when there isn't any track. I've been staring at the ceiling when the sun refuses to shine, Tasting bitterness of failure like a cheap, sour wine. But the pain is a teacher, and the scars are the proof, That I stood inside the fire and I finally found the truth. ​It’s a marathon of misery, a sprint through the dark, Trying to build a roaring fire from a solitary spark.