A battle is the goal, but apathy, it takes you and grinds you into a filtered mind

And idle time, it's true, it grabs you like a stronghold curse, and teases you with a breakthrough, too


And jealousy, it's true, when blue looks different from my brush, but we all use the same brand ink

And holidays aren't enough to clear the space, and space is all that I have to fill my foreign grace

And on my way to work, the bus is filled with vacant stares
The evidence of pain so rare
So everyone is numb, or everyone they hide it all, and I don't want to hear their falls

Comments