Everybody died today, metamorphosis - never completed. Maturity entrapped the folks, even the children, teeny, tiny babes, The stars never danced in their eyes; the sky wouldn't allow Starry Nights. I only ever told stories, those Wisdoms passed on from my grandpap, dissed in the corners of the streets, I look up for my internal stars and wish these people would combust and finally clear the air so my grandpap could breathe.