flies-
And a bird's glass eyes-
A beat rolls across the ground,
And it seems that I have found
the finder.
It's been given a reason.
It's been given a rhyme.
One Purpose.
And as I handed it the world
it took away the time
I needed.
Disaster will bring people.
People will bring more.
But I am thankful
out here
where the butterflies die
there is no one to hear
my ode to
the flies
(Don't ask about that one. Not even I know. x.x)
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