What is this I hear about being strong
‘You’re strong, you can handle it’ they say
And for a split second they have me believing the same
But in each agonizing moment that passes by, it all seems to be a cruel game
And with tear drops sashaying down cheeks once risen with smiles
You cannot help but wonder about the depth of all those lies
And each time the awareness of helplessness does throng
I ponder what they really mean by me being strong

Ironic it is that they should choose to use a title as such
In the moments when the exact opposite is what rules as sane and rings as true
With the passing of days of gloom and the culmination of nights a-blue
There’s naught left to do but relinquish all that is to the Power anew
And then…it is in that cry of distress, or that sigh of immense fatigue
Or those periods of life when the words ‘hopelessness’ and ‘failure’ seem to form a league
Then, I understand the semantics behind the words they spoke before

For being strong has less to do with gleaming muscles that remain sore
Than it has with the resolution to persevere and once again open another door

If true strength lies in weakness, then it’s logical to assume the following
That true wealth lies in poverty, for then you appreciate more than what is a-glowing
Or that the most worthwhile lessons lie in those moments unprepared
For then you accept things as true that you would never have dared
And in the midst of all those complexities
Its a fact that simplicity eventually overturns all your facilities
And especially that it’s in those moments of fear
That you can little else but hope with all you are, as you shed that final tear