There are always pieces missing
Something left unknown
To leave one reaming
draining the fruits left forlorn

Turning stone to find bugs as if the plane was rigged
Creepy crawling scarecrows up the stage inside my head
As I begin double taking every passing thought
An inception reflection hurling me to push on
Changing every pattern in the hopes for true starts

An opposition forms inside my bleeding heart
A rejection for the progression of doomsdays little songs
Trust that when you're not looking you're a part of catering business
and in our world today it truly is survival of the fittest

In breath taking moments clarity strikes me hard
In setting myself apart I feel less hallmark
I do not adapt to the world at large for I am small town garb
I'd rather adapt to space than aim to please like stars