Strides At Age 16

Your choice is gone And you smoke weed while in the sun Your love is gone And yet I feel so free When is the wind going to rise? When is love going to die? Laughing in on his suicidal thoughts Seeing what lie beneath his oozing yellow rots Laugh and poke games at his horrible figure Lock him away for a cold dark winter When is he going to leave? When will I find my deed? You see him starving and rotting alone while frolicking You see him touching and molesting without a single masterpiece An infested milk rotted till winter His milk is sh$t and full of seasons dimmer When will the violence end? When will it all turn to blends? Turning all over in heads and heels Seeing right through, another grassy hill Making eyesight while playing out of mind and seeking what to find Laughing at suicide as if it where a sac of green smoking dime When will we find peace inside our hearts? When will it all start to fall apart?