Whispering down the empty streets
Barefoot listlessness in summer heat,
whispering down the empty street.
Mindless meander on the avenue of normality,
haunted by lonely echos of morality.
Always choose the road more traveled,
aimlessly digressed into a ravel.
Mud on my torn jeans and heart on fire,
broken down n wrapped in barbed wire.
Change, i believe, is strange and unnerving,
but can push you to a place seismic.
Wanting myself tied to the past,
not knowing nothing forever lasts.
Choosing to embrace the change anyway,
found myself at a point very strange.
Swallowing a bit of my arrogant pride,
every time a little inside i died.
Freedom inside me is no more,
my wings are cut and i cant soar.