The busy existence
I run to keep up with
But still all ways this distance
still trip and fall
I wish
It would just all
STOP
Everything falls to the ground
All that is left is grassy fields and the crowd
There i see them
A stranger on their knees
I run with the breeze
And fall in front of them
I cry out
Then out of my mouth comes everything that is wrong
All that i hate and that is unsure
But then they hug me
And out comes everything that is gone
everything that makes them hurt and all they endure
We cry
And leave our tears on the grass
I stand there hand in mine
we run and the pain we pass
And if we trip we will land on the soft grass
R.E
2/11/18