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 Penciled Thoughts


Why can't people see?
The things they say and do
Talk about their willingness
That's never being true

There's lying in the streets
Faking in the home
Stuck within the emptiness
Never more to roam

Then we see each other
As we truly are
Sitting on a dusty shelf
In a dirty jar

Slowing disappearing
Off this piece of sod
Try to find peace of mind
But feeling very odd

So we wander down the road
Cannot find the way
Words a tangled mess we weave
Lost to what to say

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