Til’ all of me shreds,
And fits everywhere i shouldn’t
Til’ a song no longer has rhythm
Or a fig tree fails to exist longer than any other tree.
Until the last lost child hears me,
Summer begins in January
Until i accept i am,
Just as i should be, on a lone journey.
Belonging to nothing and no one
Until all of this, i will still be lost in this sense arcade.
There is no day
I will fail to raise my voice in prayer
Until all of the nation’s enemies
Are crushed, defeated, and forgotten
until we all become crooked
we will never fathom straight.
the world is a broken poem
it takes more than lines to fix.
accept your within, within its chains
the only thing found will forever be lost.
Paulyn X Bose X Ruddapoet