Run run as fast as you can
no matter what they tell you
I am better than I am.
I ran up the hill with a bucket,
only to fall back on my crown,
and those jagged little edges reminded me
that I am easily broken
and cannot be put back together again.
And as the bridge comes crashing down
to shower the world with color
I was reminded of the plague
and little rosy marks of blood
that fill the fires with dread.
I have a sack of misery for dear ms. apathy
and the little boy down the lane.
but this bag clear full at my side
is for only me
and is all my pain.
