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Oct 2015
Shape your sight with some sounds,
in the sky lies the ground.
Doubt your  faith,
And put faith in doubt.

Sprouting up against the sun
Are hopeful Seeds in earthen homes.
Sad are seeds trees set in stone,
Born to rot in the catacombs.

C'mon, I'll break this lazy,
Your potential is killing you.
When you're aware of ability,
But it's not being put to use.

Stuck in a web of stasis,
Void of valueable stimulation.
ThIs means much more to me than you
I bit off more than I could chew.
Ian Stern
Written by
Ian Stern  MN
(MN)   
364
   bex
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