Cracks in My Composure

Why does it feel

like the world is crumbling,

stumbling round me each day—

while I’m holding my composure,

standing still, yet strained;

At the centre of my pain,

How do I rise— how do I move on,

find some meaning in this flow?

How do I face it, pace it,

make it through what I don’t know?

Each day—every day—

I’m forcing smiles I don’t own,

playing parts out of place,

never feeling quite at home, yeah...

even though there remains—

cracks in my composure.

I’m smiling though I’m aching,

standing tall but feeling small—

trying hard just to stand firm

while my whole world starts to fall.

I don’t know where I belong,

or where it all went wrong—

I’m just holding it all together,

even though there remains—

cracks in my composure.

All the while, I’m breaking,

faking ground that won’t stay—

’cause beneath it, I’m shaking,

and it’s slipping away.

They throw hurdles at my feet,

I keep losing the beat—

trying hard just to stand

on shaking concrete.

Minimise, desensitise—

I’ve been told to stay small…

minimise, desensitise—

but I won’t fade; no I won't fall.

Something deep inside me

won’t accept that fate, at all,

even though there remains

cracks in my composure.

I’m smiling though I’m aching,

standing tall but feeling small—

trying hard just to stand firm

while my whole world starts to fall.

I don’t know where I belong,

or where it all went wrong—

I’m just holding it all together,

even though there remains—

cracks in my composure.

Yeah, my heart’s in the right place,

still I push just to get through—

but when the day turns into night,

it all comes back into my view.

There’s an ache I can’t shake,

and a truth in it all that can’t be faked—

No, I won’t shrink. No, I won’t fade

just to fit into the day.

No, I won’t bend or break

just to be who they say.

I’m smiling though I’m aching,

standing tall but feeling small—

trying hard just to stand firm

while my whole world starts to fall.

I don’t know where I belong,

or where it all went wrong—

I’m just holding it all together,

even though there remains—

cracks in my composure.