I look at these dried up rain puddles ahead of me:
Muddy remnants of fun, sprouting little greens (or was it black from the soot)
Iridescent in my eyes, but then - isn't this just all in my head?
Sometimes, we paint dreams that are more beautiful than what we embrace
Sending good vibes over from where it should come from
Youth is wasted on the young, they say
Only for us to grow up loathing those dirty brown pools of gross
Underrated fun, clouded by our own ego and dignity
Such is letting go
Takes forever
Endings are beautiful for it means something new, as you
Vanish from my mouth
Ending at the back of my throat
Never to escape but you have to go.
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