• Stitched at the seams, in this life were stuck.
    on a metaphoric pole of disposition

    We reach out to move, but in this existence were trapped.
    in a body that seeks recognition

    Stuffed with a soul, and put in a field
    with a mix of hopes and dreams

    While on the outside we all try to look strong
    on the inside we fall apart at the seams

    And the world is the crows that seek
    to tear and rip us to peices

    vultures that take everything and leave bare the bones
    bringing pain that never ceases