I hit my head on a bump in the road

Slipped and got a few cuts

It wasn't to an extended degree

Just a few scrapes from head to knee

Don't worry, you can't see them visually

They're only felt internally

When I got back home I picked up a book

Just to realize my life was written all over

Fantasies to realities were very descriptive on every page

Too bad if I ripped a few out it'll still be remembered in a haze

I quess it's just my stroke of luck

You can't chose who's gonna be in your book

Or choose what each chapter will be exactly about

All you can do is keep a look out

So the next time you read it

there'll be no doubts

People will read it but never quite understand

They don't know the fate that lies in your hands

Only you will know exactly who you are

Whether you are the protagonist or antagonist only you will know

People will have their opinions

Try to sprout your growth

But the least that they will discover

That what they read was only the beginning

there's moments you yourself can't uncover

In your life you did much more

things that couldn't be jotted down

because it was only for you to know

No one will be able to interpret the reasons, why you now smile

All you did was turn the page

Started writing about better days,

a new phase.