We are the fallen the dropped and crawlin. We are, we are- the youth of the na-a-tion. We dream in rhymes and speak in colors. Baby close your eyes, you might just see me. Just maybe. If you really try
Seriously though. Like the smallest wind will blow me away. Like expensive China breaking over and over again. Like the moment before falling when the ground is still rushing at you; massive and inevitable.
No comments:
Post a Comment