Searching

Stranded here in the midst of clouds
Cant see anything beyond my hands
I need a hideout,
To rest my wounded body and soul

No where to turn to,
No running from it,
No one to rely,
No place to call home

In this dire state,
My head feels like a hammer pounding on it
Digging my way out
Fingers bleeding and nails filled with dirt

Done looking for the critics
Cause they're everywhere
They don't like my style
They don't get my character

Exchange ourselves
And we do it all the time
Why do we do that?
Why do I do that?

I will come out triumphant
So what if Im down in the ditches
I know I have the world against me
But I have my friends behind me =))
Come on and climb out