not much we can do about it by zoa-boo, literature
Literature
not much we can do about it
Don't you remember when you were young?
When the world seemed so bright.
The stars shined ever so bright every night.
You were happy to just play all day,
Never knew you were wasting your life away.
You were a child,
and to you the future was so bright.
You couldn't wait to grow up and make a difference,
to show the world who you were.
But then you grew up.
You had to go to school.
Your wild spirit was labeled as a mental defect.
You were told to shut up and sit down.
They didn't care what you stood for,
because you were a child,
and children don't know what they're talking about, right?
Through the years you were told you
November 12th 2010 by stars-in-the-gutter, literature
Literature
November 12th 2010
The birds sat so unaware, perched up so high on their black lines that tore through my vision.
They didn't see my eyes go wide in awe of the Paradies spilling out in bursts from those smokestacks. Clouds of pink that flooded the sky and sent my heart spinning into space. Did they see it; When my heart fell from the edges of my eyes and down into the coal and dirt
? Did they turn their heads in curiosity as my heart broke and shattered upon the ground?
No.
They were only birds. They knew no make believe worlds of love and dreams... they had no proverbial hearts to break. Only truth and instinct.
I long to be those birds. Unswaying as the