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I am an iceberg and a survivor

My eyes doth see too much I say.
Well, It's all over but the crying Betty,
You can't ever unsee a thing......

Oh, but I like what I see
You stand so tall
Never sinking
and oh, oh
so white

I see, I see
But I am an iceberg
and that's just the tip you see
underneath, I have been sinking all along

isn't that exactly how an iceberg is supposed to be
We are not meant to see what's underneath....
they didn't make you that way....

maybe they I should have made me a flower
but flowers have roots too, I guess
maybe life as a flower wouldn't
have been any better.....

"N.tip of the iceberg, the first hint or revelation of something larger or more complex:" Dictionary.com

I have always lived mylife like an iceberg. Aloof, sometimes crumbling. Moving slow at times, but moving, none-the-less. Being pulled by currents that are often too strong to vanquish. Living ninty percent below the surface, but never enitirely sinking. Well, here is the ninty percent. What lies below the surface is intensely cold and impenetrable, moulded by the constantly flowing and sometimes turbulent, waters of my life...and just like the waters of my home, the waves, at times, seem to large to conquer, then, without warning, the sea subsides and for just a while, the calm returns......

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