Untitled

These words come from scattered fragments,
Littered through my mind,
Pieces that I thought I would never find,
Shattered so fine,
They were hidden in the tall grass,
Accompanied by the snakes,
As I search they try and bite at my feet,
So I stick to these streets,
The highways of my mind,
Where most of the saturated information is covered in dirt,
Diluted by lies,
Each morning I have to wipe my eyes,
Rid them of the scales that are causing this blindness,
Sitting in silence,
Where it’s never really quiet,
The voice I have heard in my head times before,
Is what I search for,
The roar has been traded for a whisper,
Echos are all that remain,
Slowly regaining sanity,
On the final approach,
Flaps are down,
I think I’m landing,
As my feet hit the ground,
I can’t help but notice where I am standing,
Freshly cut grass is what surrounds me,
Able to see where the snakes hide,
No longer are they out of sight,
As night turns to day,
My safety is no longer in question,
Now growth,
Not destruction is all that comes with the lessons.

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