I keep on turning
and skipping pages,
blank as they may be

Reckless enough to
lose them in the way,
still continuing

Life had given me
another book to
be written upon

And yet here I am:
starting and stopping
on a blank canvas

* *

You'll find no loyalty to a country in me
A body of land is a body of land
And that is all it will ever be.

You'll find no tether to a grave with me
Mistakes were made for which must be paid
But before it's due, I will flee.

You'll find no tearful denials in my speech
The people have done what they thought they must
And that has never shocked me.

You'll find no willful positivity in me
The hand we've turned will be a lesson learned
Wether it be joy or misery.

You'll find little else but solidarity
My morals are my country
My strength is my mentality
My freedom, my nationality

You'll find little else but the strength to temper your mistakes
With stoic resignation I will watch
As this country breaks, it breaks.

The sun will come up tomorrow,
the flowers will grow in the spring,
May love abound in your life and
peace to your soul may it bring.