Time is a tepid and tremendous thing,
Standing alone - I\'ll never give a wedding ring.
Protecting my point of view and frame of mind,
Watching as they just stumble around blind.
My mind moulded to be poetic,
Hate and anger are kinda pathetic.
The terminal generation could you call this?
Imagine Earth is a cracked and chipped dish,
Sitting on top - we are the battered and fried fish.
Will the final break be from an external wish?