Those that have been cast out tend to clutter together
For the reason that is fear of being alone
So let us flutter together, as one into space
As butterflies that have realized, through broken glossy eyes
Falling in love is for birds without wings
For it fell into place & we have lost face
As our past lovers tread on our broken bones
And scream filled dreams turn to silent play scenes
We have become puppets on strings
For we are much like plastic play things
Played with for games of love and broken with hate
Slowly from perfect to toys of miscreate
We are past lovers
