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Reality
Reality
We're all fragile kids
Waiting for a Friday evening
To ghost out from routine
Jump onto a couch
To plug Netflix in
Forgot that it became a routine;
Often we forget to say goodbye
When silence held in your cold heart,
A void like that to remind you
Later to cringe about things
That you didn't do
When life surpasses by;
Wishing time could turn around
To see our pathetic hurt grounding us
You'd be a sunshine
or a Moonraker
To someone on their darkness
But there comes an end,
Where you really understand
Some things are not up to you.
The real question is,
Out of all these empty survivals
That you collect in your runaway
What is a bad memory?
The one which doesn't mend life
Or the one which surpasses the fragile you?
The answers aren't in the attempt,
They are on the blooming side
Of every flower that dies anonymously
