finally, i'll blow it out
i know its something i can do without.
sarah dear don't hold your breath,
the time is right to take your rest.
don't run away as you used to do,
this silence does some good for you.
sky that reaches shades of gold
the hand you reach for is the wrong to hold.
don't let it down, there is too much left alive,
i know this, because of how he died.
it wasnt right to leave him home alone
as you dally left and right unknown.
you're secrets are safe, though you think it wise
to create this unwitting unsettled surprise.
the new cant stand up and his words a mess
effortless, redundant, ceased to be impressed.
what happened to dreams, what happened to stories?
of families and friends and all of their glories.
dont you want to get out, to grow up and get out?
somedays i think you could do with out.
there is no room to breath with out your trees
but tall buildings or pollutions to hide underneath.
but you say
i'll be alright living with this state of mind.
im not wasting time.
when i stay in the small box with no walls nor color
i've grown used to the edges, in time they grow duller.
to live is to work, and to work is to be burden.
i cant even see the moon in this town,
too covered in clouds.
i cant see it shining,
not even off my walls..
when i take my fingers and surround it and clasp them
it never cries out.
the moon never cries out.
doesnt that count for something, sarah.
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