Trusting Impulse

The glass that cracks,
hears the yelling.
Held inside, no more room for holding air.

Forgiveness is handed too easily,
what else must we earn.

And all the windows look outside,
And all the outside, stays the same.

What else must we capture,
through photographs and crafted frames?

And all the silence, is never heard.
Just stuck in the shattered pieces.

Lost and swept up on dusted ground. 

The Bricks We're Made Of

People are just shadows,

Silhouettes in the dark of a lamp lit room.

We don't really see anything but the wall we're cast on.

Our sudden movements, drawing motions like mere wind.

And everything that is golden is always buried in the last box.

Maybe that's why so many people create their own and fill it with jewellery. 

We hear about stories of the rainbow, and magic fairies from another land.

And we always believe or cling to the hope without the existence of it's presence.

If we could break down the wall,

Maybe we could land amongst another planet.

If we could break down the wall,

Maybe we could escape our sullen shadows.

Break away with the switch of a light, and enter a valley of Eden.