• There's no beginning to this thought process.
    There's no form or set rhythm or rhyme
    No talent, really.
    How can it ever compare?
    Age is a number
    That creates who you are
    Whether you're acting it
    or hiding it
    Or pretending you remember it
    Why isn't writing an art?
    You can become a clothing designer
    or video game creator
    or visual media tycoon
    But where's the poet slash novelist slash lyricist tycoon?
    For the only humans I care about
    This is a very short arrangement
    Where are the candles??
    Where's the shredded pieces of colorful paper
    floating in the breeze?
    Running thin
    Falling down
    There's not much more to say
    (Even if i were able to say it.)