I'd take this world
into the palm of my hand
and crunch it up
just like paper,
turn it into a vapor.

Not in reality
but in my head,
empty out all the wrong if able,
crunch up all the pain
wash it away with rain.

I'd start from scratch,
this earthly patch.
I'd breathe fresh air
and walk the streets
without any fear.

Yet people still hurt
on this hunk of dirt
that is our earth
And the world still turns
with much to learn.

And like the flowers
are the people truly like
growing only strong and upright
if love has no conditions
and is not a work of fiction.