Such stories tumble weeds tell,
insinuating that they'll always be around
that they've found some common ground
and how it was only you who could stop the wind.
But, thats never really the case.
Truth is they're just stuck on the barbed wire
inching towards freedom in the breeze.
Just when you get use to their smell
and that sound they make as they tap the ground,
the north wind picks up calling them away
leaving you with nothing but broken twigs
and brief moments of sweet entanglements