my world view with a kaleidoscope lens
childish preference at it's very finest
grasping concepts and hope instead of rage
hope--of someday sharing that communal troth
my constant strife to create nothing but good
sometimes failing, but still caring, like i think we should

potential greatness freely flowing from our hands
reality's palms are full of life, death, and the in between
countless decisions of forks, spoons, or those petty knives
my--such a short cycle, but really it's just enough
to create, to alter, to change, to better, to love
crisscross applesauce and your angels much much above

rationality killed by deception
irrationality triggered by love
shot---
once, twice, too many times
i beg, take what you need, and nothing more
at the end of our time, we'll divvy up the score

butter knives, daggers, and those lifetime swords
no matter the sunny day, surely cutting bit by bit
innocent white flesh, to the bone, to the heart
a darkening of my color as the demons crawl out
it is our young desire, and not our actions, that are shared
but in hope, put to the side, so that one day we may be paired