He says he's mine,
but am I really his?
Should I push these feelings aside and let him in?
Is their some kind of line that decides if I'm his?
Is this right?
do we really fit?
Maybe I'm in love,
just a bit,
or maybe I'm trying to find a replacement,
for the one I thought would be him.
I hear the tick of a clock letting me know every second I am wasting as I scroll through my phone,
the slide of my finger against the screen,
the tap of my thumb as I message someone back,
artificial noise.
Some where there is a child jumping in new puddles,
playing in the soft mud of the Earth,
full of joy.
Some where a child picks springs new dandelions,
blowing on the fluffy seeds to make wishes.
Pledge your life to liberty and justice,
raise your hand and take an oath to serve and protect,
who are you protecting though?
I watch the news and see agents hurting the innocent,
children,
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