leap over bricked walls
with a dash of flying colors
actions stringed with paper weights
balanced on a scale
waiting to pounce upon hate
or false metaphors of fate
now, it's a glimmer of past memories
swarming in the outskirts of debate
I have seen the true colors
seeped into the broken promises
and neglected to waste
I try to die out the spark
in quick haste,
yet it still hurts
still, it burns
so I try not to look
and wait for the weather
and sweet sweet time
to erode the edges
and blur out the past
mistakes