Sunday, September 25, 2005

One Grows From the Flesh That Does from within

A Constant Evolve, A Constantly Thing

If we’re Lucky We Then Make it to 5

This Noise Of Childhood Has Timed Us To Thrive

Our Noises and Names, And Faces Of Place

Last In Our Mind For The Rest Of These Days

At 9 We Come Calmer, but Focused as Most

For The Toys Of Our Shelves Are What We Love Most

These Things Will Then Pass, As The Schoolyard Do Scream

At 12 We All Wish Life Was Merely A Dream

It is The Age that We Reach That Makes Means To The Ends

But This All Depends On Insignificant Friends

They Are Your Rule, They Are Your Air

You Appease Them Somemore for The Concern Of Their Cares

For A One To Submit To The Pressures So Peer

Why Would One Want To Live With These Fears

Ah, To Be Peerless is Truly An Arrogant Gain

You Sacrifice Friends And Yourself Still Remains

Hardly Deluded, Hardly Said Sane

It Makes Us All Smarter And Closer To Graves