nothings wrong with tumble weeds and humble deeds
stories that numb our dreams from the dumb we see on the day to day
in every way, it's an expansion of the minds vocab
when we throw a drab drape over the facts and make it shine
it's words that intertwine with our souls, revealing the mold of time
our own design we flow in lines that blows some minds
fuck perfection. my best complexions in my texts imperfections
and I hold it true
and I mold my view, with every topical taken
every obstacle made in my life's one the mind can succumb to
and the guitars strum in tune with the tune my mind's overrun by
overcome by the high tide, we drown in the tidepool
next to crabs, squid and starfish melting in our time's spool
I find fuel. the minds a jewel, impaled by a thousand prodding stakes
trying to take over a fictional point in time as their home, their place.
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