The band played in a dark lit bar,
the guitarist strummed a somber melody.
Double shot of whiskey on the rocks for me
said she, who sat at the bar, looking kind of lonely.
A stranger next to her couldn't help but ask,
"are you sad little girl?"
She half smiled and her eye's glistened.
There is no little girl left inside of me,
and by are you sad, meaning; am I not happy?
that's a loaded question old man...
This whole world is filled with hopelessness but also with hope,
it's filled with deceit, but also with honesty,
it's overwhelmed by death, but also with birth,
it's touched with broken hearts, but loaded with love.
It's a black and white world we live in,
but because I can point out the sadness and feel it, does not mean I am not happy.
Because I can sit here and think about the forsaken, or write about deeper feelings,
or throw my hands in the air in the verge of anger.
Or because I have loved and lost, made mistakes and learned, fallen and gotten back up, does not mean I am not happy.
It means one thing;
I'm living.
The old man smiled at her with dark eyes,
lifted his glass, "a toast to living".
