Around the landscape,
Grass is perfect, made of plastic
False flowers bloom year-round
The sky is a brilliant cerulean, always
The world does not spin,
Tilted on it's axis
Everyone is perfect,
Their faces equivalent to one another
There is no love,
Nor naturalism
Everything is artificially sweetened.
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 9:08 PM UTC
Around the landscape,
Grass is perfect, made of plastic
False flowers bloom year-round
The sky is a brilliant cerulean, always
The world does not spin,
Tilted on it's axis
Everyone is perfect,
Their faces equivalent to one another
There is no love,
Nor naturalism
Everything is artificially sweetened.
