when i look out from my window i see the rain
shimmer in the pitch black sky
i feel it pour down on ym dangling feet but i
breath in and smell its scent
the orange glow of fragmented streetlight
cutting through the sleek ink road
covering the ex red bricks
it trackles down ym arms and i feel the same
two years before i looked down to the ground
i saw the same greyscale streets
i held onto the flickers of the luminated streets
speckels of hope craking through the dark
but now i see the sparkling stream
slididng through the stone path
it reflects the damage all throughout the world
but i cant help but want stop and smile
at the beauty of its light
and the hope and love it washed around
2 years ago i talked like oscar wilde
but now ive fouind something to make me laugh
i can still hear the sound of thunderstorms
keeping em awake when i lie down
my feeet touch the same roof that i
threw burnt paper on
it drifted off into the clouds
and toook my cloudded eyes
the smell of woodne trees makes me cry