By Arcassin Burnham


Decent degrees,  desert degrees,
They're all the same, you two need time
Apart to lie upon the furbished frame,
I think of love , I think of greed,  I think of hate,
I think of fighting,
They all correspond in what the world crisis is today in hopes to stay away from utter destruction, so the dysfunction
Has a hold on us,
The trees die, corporates build,
No care at all,
The lames they stay in places just to release all their hate,
Then look for a little shoulder crying when the other don't relate,
Ignorance doesn't make it far in a world as cold as this,
It could the power of negative spreading or in the face of a fist,
I think of things in life that keeps me living for tomorrows,
The vultures they creep, while being so flawed,  it's alright,  there are no more sorrows.