Everything is perfectly imperfect
put down perfectly,
creating an unshaped shape.
Confusing as it is
it leaves you on the ground
with wicked thoughts on your head
does anything make sense?
Why is that there are so many colors
yet, our eyes stand on black;
We’re able to be anything
so why choose to be sad?
Shouldn’t we try to tweak our brain
for a certain degree
that should make us happy
or maybe, it’ll make us fall from the tree.
But, whatever the result may be
I guess it’s better than locking our light
our source of life
in a dark room, filled with pain and fear;
I feel like I’m out of context again,
but who cares,
this was just another senseless writing
it’s not suited for those who are sane.