Oh, Sticks and stones may break our bones, But bumps and scrapes unite us Where there's no room for undertones, Save well-intentioned bloodlust
Where rivers rusty red flow through The thickest dusty grime Where all the doors we've passed right through Still stand the test of time
It's hard to be a stand-out here Unless your tongue is gold But you wouldn't trade a single year For the ignorance you've sold
Still it's become hard to see The lovely shades of grey For all the black and blue that we Have gathered along the way
The road just never seems to end This search to find the light And even if we could pretend That everything's alright
Every stone must still be turned Till none un-turned remain Until there is a lesson learned That everything is stained
But, for all the neatness kept, If you shake out the rugs You'll always find a little dirt And the carapace of bugs
And so you get used to it And here you build your ark For light is cast with candles lit Even though it casts some dark
Son of a Lich · Tue Dec 15, 2015 @ 10:56am · 0 Comments |