The pendulum clicks and ticks the past into its chronological line,
Fine haired child among broken family frames,
Lame excuse for emotions drugged by divine wine,
Dine alone within five homes riddled with fatherless aims.
Criminalize the weak child into jagged corners of the yard,
His brown eyes cry countless words yet remain hushed,
Too thin to dwell within real feelings of fake bards,
Shaking desperately for attention since the pain is too lush.
Bruised heart pounds apart from uniformed conformity,
Hate of the youth brushed away by the corrupt villains of life,
Tears tend softly soothing young man’s sacred soul,
A whole in space replaces jocular language with guilt.
Wisdom perches its wings above first love dreams,
Renewed hands scribe plans for philosophical change,
Ethos merges over the blazers bold blue bonds,
Fond memories of paper stars fixated on dark walls.
Revolve turnstile backwards as the first one leaves,
Visitors try to hound analogously to damaged rhetoric,
Only booze will burn the pages torn apart by her leave,
Then with time the young man understood his own fault.
One’s skin reeks of the ages while kissing that new façade,
She did well to swell images of likes into laughable forms,
Having journeyed all summer for her seemed sagacious,
But now left stagnate are thoughts perceived yet deceived.
Experience is what weighs his back and belittles his mind,
Kind chimes, rhythms, and humankind bind his soul now,
How can one lose sight of jade fields swaying lifelessly away?
Nostalgic play breathes homogenous amour for her even today.
If one’s asks what withers another soul,
It’s the truth that prunes the body,
It’s love that commits such a toll.