Break Strain
- By Lily Eastman
- Published 06/16/2008
Lily Eastman
Lily was born in the back of a station wagon to traveling circus performers. They left her at a rest stop in Polk County when her fear of tigers made her a nuisance. A nice family adopted and tried to make her feel welcome, but sometimes, late at night, when the bullfrogs called, she wondered if she might be different. Not really, she sleeps like a rock, so she never heard the bullfrogs. She now plots world domination. And takes naps.
This is my feeble tide
Floating in an ocean of disdainful stares
I know somewhere
Behind the melting anguish of my mind
That there's still hope
For me to fly
They pull, the critics, they drag
Beckon narcissistically for me to allow
Complacency
Never
in this ocean
I will rise above
One last chance
To burn eternally shine my story
And as the quicksand sea, the doubting fears
Hold on with all their might
Last hope
Explodes
And I rise above
Like a flaming nova
Forever
Floating in an ocean of disdainful stares
I know somewhere
Behind the melting anguish of my mind
That there's still hope
For me to fly
They pull, the critics, they drag
Beckon narcissistically for me to allow
Complacency
Never
I will rise above
One last chance
To burn eternally shine my story
And as the quicksand sea, the doubting fears
Hold on with all their might
Last hope
Explodes
And I rise above
Like a flaming nova
Forever
