Why did I stop,
Writing that is,
Games of hide and seek
Coyest the dream
Getting past by
Society in cab
To there next check
On the sixth list
Ever increasing, wants,
With if's

I forgot what the sky looked like
Or a tree yet pressed thin
Building the tunnel
Which will one day collapse

Maybe if I just,
Cut myself up,
Into the tiniest of pieces
There would be some left for me

Lord knows I've given in
Selling myself,
To the the devils lawyer,
But it's impossible to breath
No divergent existence
Prayers for content;
As I settle