#1
Now this is my first official attempt at witting lyrics, or poetry, for that matter. Any advice, critique, or constructive criticism is welcome and much appreciated.

They raise there glass for another round,
searching for answers left unfound.
They gather themselves in groups of few,
hoping for a life they never knew.

The pawn never seems to question the master,
but just finds ways to get there faster.
There were always strings attach for a reason,
in order to bow out creates ones treason.

While the edge is one step closer to fall,
each stumble is more difficult to stand tall.
Few will succeed while many will fail,
but its more rewarding once you prevail.

Times are tough and emotions are low,
and it's nearly impossible not to let go.
Yet, once you fall you will soon see,
things are best left to let them be.