11d • General discussion
Still Living on It
We don’t have it easy, we never really did,
learned how to be strong back when we were kids.
Bills on the table, doubts in our heads,
still chasing tomorrow from the edge of the bed.
Some nights feel heavy, like the weight won’t bend,
like hope’s just a word people say to pretend.
But we lace up our courage, we show up again,
even when quitting would feel like the win.
We’ve been bruised by the world, yeah, tested and worn,
still stitching our dreams back together by morning.
We’ve fallen apart and learned how to stand,
with callused hearts and shaking hands.
It’s not about comfort or having it made,
it’s surviving the storm and loving that way.
It’s holding on tight when the ground starts to slide,
saying “not today” to the voice that says hide.
We’ve learned how to laugh in the middle of stress,
how to call it a win just to make it through mess.
How to love with no guarantee,
how to stay when leaving feels easier, see.
We don’t have much, but we’ve got enough—
a little belief, a whole lot of trust.
Enough fire inside to keep us alive,
enough heart to keep reaching, enough nerve to try.
Some dreams take time, some prayers take years,
some answers come wrapped up in sweat and tears.
But we keep saying yes to one more day,
even when faith’s hanging on by a threadbare thread of hope and grace.
We’re not fearless, just stubborn as hell,
refusing to quit when the odds won’t sell.
We bend, we break, we swear we’re done—
then get back up when the morning comes.
So if you’re tired, if you’re barely there,
if all you’ve got left feels paper-thin, unfair—
hold on to it anyway, don’t let it slip,
sometimes surviving is the miracle, this is it.
We’re still standing, still fighting the night,
still believing the dark doesn’t cancel the light.
And even if hope’s just a whisper today,
we’ll make it through somehow—
yeah, we’re still living on it anyway.
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Still Living on It
