When i used to crawl,
everything was feather light,
though used to growl,
love was no flight,
hate hidden beyond smiles,
or i interpreted the air full of love,
just a growing bud on its innocent stage
i then grabed a fist,
started to stand,
then make a fall stand rhyme,
but their smiles were lovely,
or my insticts had no danger alarm,
love was fresh as roses,
plenty like ocean sand,
thats the destruction of an innocent mind
then started scrowling,
hypnotised by the surrounding,
with the pigeon heart of my youth,
fellt for some uprooted weeds,
kissed wrong frogs,
pissed but still alive,
or maybe this is the price of innocence
wanna take a glimpse,
of the innocent ages,
where i was in with no cent,
innovent to interpret that the air is full of love,
wanna dance in the fresh air,
roll in the mad,
without being called childish,
wanna strive off the innocence of the bud stage,
it is destructive and corrosive