my voice has grown tired screaming for attention my cries falling off what seems like deaf ears. I know you hear me. I know you're in there. I shake my fists at your face, wanting so badly to hit you, so that you might notice my display. I want to grab you by the shoulders and shake you senseless, then maybe you'd hear my plea. and I wouldn't feel so helpless If you'd stop and look at me. my voice has grown tired and quite horse and still you remain quiet so I wait and I wait some more and still; I don't hear a word. so I curl up on the floor and grieve everything I have heard.
I hold a very little box with very little things little thoughts little clippings of smaller things I’ve often folded myself up and placed myself in waiting in my little box for a little time for a little while I sit with a little smile I’m not asking for much nothing bigger than the box nothing more than two room for me and a little of you
Here is just another thought Going down the stream, Just another thought.
Leaking from a tap Labeled with "purity" Just another trap
The obsessive mind gullibly bites the lure, Obscured by clouds connections, Concealing the large picture.
How every blast creates a reaction! Panic attacks to draw the attention. Where’s the crack in the grand ****’s wall, So we can strike down the reservoir?
Diverting the river that must belong to all Before our eyes - wider worlds shrink small; Cradled by the uniformity of lies that appease, Those grazing in the dunes still tarry at ease.
It’s no wonder!
Insecurity has grown into a most lucrative market As danger becomes the currency on which to place the bet; Release the flow from the control that profits hold fast, Question the junk food that's become the pasture of our mass.