your hands aren't the ones making history
in this anti dramatic, anti climatic mystery
you're just a rip off of the few words spilled
with an ignorance for the very strong willed
inspiring thoughts that are a little less than thought provoking
penning just a few more lines down while the reader is choking
why are my hands the ones you chose to curse
before i had the chance to write the first verse
was it something i said, was it something wrote
in between the message of each and every note
i must be awaiting for the fire to ignite, for the inevitable to incite
but i swore this would be the last time I'd hide behind what I write.
