Ripples painted across the sky,
stretched like a curtain with dreams to hide,
apathetic,shadows crawl across the land,
eyes shut, to windows open wide.
Mama, I saw a hole in the sky,
gaping yellow,screaming, burning in red,
it called out to me, spinning a web of hope,
promising me of worlds im yet to see.
Curling around my feet, slowly glides away,
drops rolling off finger tips, back to where they belong,
whispering secrets, keeping me safe,
a drifter, aimlessly, drowning me in his songs.
Father this world wasnt meant for me,
these marble floor's hurt more than broken pebbles do,
Its thoughts flow against the waves in my head,
these hearts are to cold, and theyr freezing me too.
And their hands just feel water, not the life it contains,
Dont you see how the wind can teach you to fly?
these hands wish to write,and this mind to learn,
fingers wish to crawl around in paint for awhile.
And I can make lives on this sand, give meaning, give hope,
paint faces and words upon rocks that burn,
draw souls out of mud and bodies out of thread,
and they'l still have a heart more willing to learn.
And i cant breathe as they choke me with their static minds,
tied tightly in silver threads. with cheap mettalic glow,
these spikes are getting closer father, your walls will crush me to death,
I think its time, you let me go.
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