Passerby


Passerby

by: Smokebear

Drifting unto the midst of silent screamers
quietly in search of my very own soul
Warring hearts and wicked lies
The madness of a roller coaster

Room full of clowns and jesters
Each with ruins kept inside
May take awhile to figure out
the twisted games that we’re all playing

No point to rush it, yet
We’ve all been running so fast
we’re in a track of a seven day mile
Torn in-between here and never again

Gripping firmly on child-like mind
But nothing’s stays the same
Fickled and fuddled words confused me
What does it matter to be tangled
In the sureness of time
Collision will bring us together

 

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