Passing
There's just a half a bag of chips left
puddles in our tent
still raining outside
our clothes are soaking wet
I'm trying to decide where this week is meant to end..
as early morning creeps on over
there is little to be said...
and so we slowly wake ourselves
crawling back on through the trees
following this beaten path
back to the road
reality
I hope for some recurring thought
to get stuck in my head
seems like the last time that i tried it
all that i could do
was forget
I don't understand you see..
what you want to mean
and I'd rather be confused than broken in between
the two of us
emotionless
to-tally stressed
but here we are relaxing
with our arms and legs stretched out
like we were 12 again
just laying in the clouds
with mindfuls of imagination
finding giant robots in the ground
id like to see a simple me
a younger state of mind..
but for all i try to grasp it..
the only thing i do...
is waste time..