Cut me deep, insides weep, foul breathe
If you contain it, it’s your treat, be a little neat
There is no way proper,
Sign in for the test, remain a dropper,
If there are friends, it’s the leaves green and wind
Rustling leaves give you oxygen, air keep moving in
There have been traumas, you are not the only itinerary
Being better at expression doesn’t turn your crow to canary
Tic Toc tic toc on that clock,
Standing in your way,
being your own block.

Not your failure to share,
Understanding the unfair,
Background lost in the trance,
The marrow in your ribs feelings enhance,
Be thorough before telling,
Settle down voices before yelling

Think of those you can’t see,
To the sight, trying and selling,
And you know they are still sailing.
So how can you be tired if they are sailing?