Are they mine?
I don't think so
Are the colors you paint your picture yours
...or the notes of the song you wrote?
I build a life out of blocks given to me by others
I've made the mistake of calling them my own
"I've worked hard to get where I'm at", I say
As if I'm the creator
I've burnt cold blocks to ashes to feel warm
And never realized the gift of hardship
I've squandered help and opportunity never understanding how to pay it forward
Yet my life is beautiful
And everything I am is yours