same ground

turn another year older

dont look behind your shoulder

it will be okay they said

even the memory of tears you have shed

there are too many things you should be grateful for

one of this is you can still read prose

stand on the ground and fill in your lungs

you are barely breathing but can always make tongues

heavy tainted air pushing down your chest

all of thy thoughts now winding south to west

this isn't the lfe you dreamed about

only blandness you cannot live without