The beauty about speaking with words. Is the meaning behind the tongue. You'll endure the red ,black ,and blue. Its interesting to be told this and that ,to believe you are young. You are young with the mere mind of an idiot , told at birth. The tongue will tell all . You might be cry , whine, laugh , or even given a somber smirk to what anyone tells you. The ears are spoken by the beauty of the words. Its the art of being able to listen to what is red, black, and blue. The severity of confusing the somber smirk of love , is terrifying ... What is so horrid about speaking and hearing, that it tar. Its spoiled and rotten. Those who you seem happy around you are broken . They are shed into million glass specks that flutter in the wind, wanting to understand this world . The world that isn't so terrifying at young. As a child this planet is home to pretty roses that blossom to the warmth of mother sun . Once the tear of water falls from the heaven the thorns are realized, they are harmful ,yet apart of something so beautiful . You are told to listen and hear like a proper child. Its all unity in one for this place we call home. Live up to those soft petal that shed when the cold autumn arrives . Compliment the blood like color for its unity of sound and tongue brings happiness to this once innocent place.