If there was a time I actually felt good, it was the birthday screams of birthday cake As kids we are soft until the drill of wood replaces our skin with a reality hard bake.
There's a rendezvous feeling, that never came to meet, and in this sink, I'm pouring emotions into a fleet.
If I could wish upon a star, skies would be glittering sweet, but my dreams remain a-far un-like rapid of drum beats.
I think I sold myself, in this poisonous world. Birthday cake smiles, Reminder of innocence.