Bits of me are scattered about
Wisps of smoke from a candle that's been blown out
Floating up to the heavens
Something I hadn't thought about till I was well past my sevens
I don't understand where they came from
or where they will go
All I can do is watch them and crow
I feel whole
But that must not be true
It must be something my mind made up
A new shade of blue
Mar 31
Mar 31, 2026 at 7:53 AM UTC
Bits of me are scattered about
Wisps of smoke from a candle that's been blown out
Floating up to the heavens
Something I hadn't thought about till I was well past my sevens
I don't understand where they came from
or where they will go
All I can do is watch them and crow
I feel whole
But that must not be true
It must be something my mind made up
A new shade of blue
