If You Can Hold On, If You Can Hold On, Hold On.

The kleenex can't wipe away my tears anymore. You reach a point where you stop, look at yourself, and ask why you keep putting yourself into these types of messes. You reach a point when it feels like you can't go on knowing what you know.

You reach a point when you give up hope because no one else hopes or dreams for the same things as you anymore.

You reach a point where it feels like you've given up. Then you stop, look at yourself, and realize you have.

It's so easy to give up and give in, it's holding on that takes the strength. It feels like you're hanging, by one finger, on the monkey bars, and if you let go you'll fall into a pool of alligators. You must hold on, yet your finger is slowly slipping, slowly turning blue, slowly becoming exhausted. You cry out for someone to help you, someone to grab onto your hand and pull you up into safety, but it seems they are immune to your tears. If anything, they only seem to smirk more as they attempt to ignore you.

My finger is losing hope, as am I. It seems so easy to give in, I must fight the urge. I know I am stronger then this, I know there is a fire inside. I know there is strength in my poor little finger, it just hasn't shown it yet.

I can hold on, I won't give up. I have determination and stamina. I have willpower and more then anything, I have hope.