My shovel is made from gold
the ground is quicksand
my gravestone reads "blank"
damn this wasn't the plan
I need an escape
so i grab a snakes hand
he pulls me up at first
then he bites at me, so i ran
back to the quicksand
eternally i'm damned
my endless digging continues
as the night becomes day
the sun looks at me
and says there's another way
she says in a soothing voice "The deeper you dig the deeper you get, you grave only becomes wider and harder to miss. Stop your journey now and let it begin. The end is near, this is your last dying sin."
So let it begin, I think to myself
She is as wise as beautiful so I listened with care
As the night falls again I let the sand begin it's tare
it's cold and it's everywhere
it suffocates me dry and dazes my eyes
so i close my eyes and hope for the pain to be realized
but then I feel a breeze
The soft wind on my cheek
I open to see myself sitting on a street
Between a fork in the road, and a kid all alone
Alone on the dirt road
looking for a bus ride
just trying to find a way home.
(When I say "I" in my writing i'm never talking about myself in this moment. This is never about myself. Just emotions of people. And things I've seen and heard.)
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