All I feel or do today,
Is based on time long ago,
When nothing right came my way,
How else was I to know?
I still feel the fear from days gone by,
The fear I’d feel that hand,
Somewhere not seen by the eye,
How could anyone understand?
They all thought that I was bad,
And I felt guilt ridden,
That life was all I had,
So, I must be bad then.
That little one inside of me,
Is still in there somewhere,
But still, very few really see,
And so they don’t dare to go there.
There to where the ache runs deep,
Deep inside my soul,
There to where the secrets keep,
Me buried in that hole.
I feel the need to climb up out,
And stand up all alone.
And to all who can hear me shout,
I don’t want to be cold as stone.
– van –