Lean in, young one. Pleasure to your past. Listen to the wisdom Thought to never grasp.
Breathe out, my child. Exhaust from the reality. Relax in sand castles And zoom in your dynasty.
Take hold, small fry. Let the shade cool the surface. Refrain from shadows Casting metamorphosis.
Live free, cherub. Let none export your soul. Dilate imagery Not to mind a waned goal.
So lean in Just a bit. Stay clear Of the thick Of the thorn To resist From the cuts On your wrist And the blood That may drip On your warmth Made of knit Highly raised From your hip That you wore Upon kid.