The wind was crisp
and the sun sang warm to my skin.
The rest of the world was too fast
to know bliss like that.
The truth is: the truth is too expensive;
a depth of emotion most are unwilling
Humanity can’t see through true eyes.
Can’t see the fighting is a small child’s game.
Who are the adults?
Let me know when you meet them.
Wounded and scared;
don’t you know how deeply you once felt the world?
The carpet is there for a reason.
The broom is used by all until the carpet
spills the truth.
The truth, they say,
will set you free, and I am free
to tell you that.
But, then again,
the carpet is good, too.