My world is one where shapes collide — I act as a square that
seeks solace, but it’s forced to abide, through life's tight rings, it
strains to pass. Yearning for freedom, a lonely chance to amass.
A longing to think beyond the lines it knows, for a simple shift
—_the means to a spirit, that it actually grows._
As the nights call me softly, while days linger long, in the midst
of their familiar chaos, I must muster my song. While the burden
of now presses heavy and tight; slumber escapes me, lost away
in the night.
I wade through the shadows, each moment isn’t always a gem,
in this fragile ballet, still I cherish them – boxed in my heart; in
this life of a square.
Nov 20, 2024
Nov 20, 2024 at 2:02 PM UTC
My world is one where shapes collide — I act as a square that
seeks solace, but it’s forced to abide, through life's tight rings, it
strains to pass. Yearning for freedom, a lonely chance to amass.
A longing to think beyond the lines it knows, for a simple shift
—_the means to a spirit, that it actually grows._
As the nights call me softly, while days linger long, in the midst
of their familiar chaos, I must muster my song. While the burden
of now presses heavy and tight; slumber escapes me, lost away
in the night.
I wade through the shadows, each moment isn’t always a gem,
in this fragile ballet, still I cherish them – boxed in my heart; in
this life of a square.
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