January 11: GRASS AND TREES
I don't think peace is the right shade to match my eyes
I don't know why my heart wants to lay down and cry
I don't want to be the person that I am
And I don't know if it is part of a plan
Or if I'm floating in a sea of broken possibilities
Melted down for me and spilt into a pool in which I float
Beside the saving boat I will not touch
Or maybe I'm adrift and I'm lost inside the sea
Maybe I was never meant to touch the grass and trees
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