A Passing Feeling

Boring, boring Words I write really don’t mean anything Please don’t read my mood swings Don’t try to figure them out That’s the first mistake I can’t figure them out I let them speak and this is what they say Talk, write, wither Don’t let the past break up the path Behind the stone rises the birth of a beast Trapped and torn Screaming and sweating Tearing and ripping away Breathe into focus Toss and turn the other cheek Beneath your feet I sleep Battered, beaten, and obsolete