The Tree


Call me the cool kid and feel better about yourself
Because you look down on everyone else
And stumble your answers because you say
Things that I don’t want to go away
But anyhow and anyway I’m done with this shit, like yesterday
I gave you my soul and you gave me clay
To make and mold and fall apart
I guess I never had your heart
But only the outline to declare
There is nobody there
And no one to listen to me
I’m not what you think you see
So use me, bruise me and hate
But something else lies in wait
And when I rise to be the sun
You will see me as everyone
As every light in every eye
As the beauty that can never die
Because perfect is illusory
And I profusory
But talking dreams to the sleeping people
Is like praying to a Church and Steeple
Only monuments to the soul
Not the reality of growing old
And in the return of the God I am
I will undo the plan
Of the darkness to fall asunder
I am a beast but not the number
Of the spin you had me in
I was just born to win

2 thoughts on “The Tree

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