Drawn to the sky,
A magnet within a sigh.
The gleam I know all too well,
With words to say, stories to tell.
Wrapping around me,
Rooted in denial,
Mind under lock and key.
For this feels like a trial.
One that’ll only end,
When the sun’s rays bend.
Drawn to the sky,
A magnet within a sigh.
The gleam I know all too well,
With words to say, stories to tell.
Wrapping around me,
Rooted in denial,
Mind under lock and key.
For this feels like a trial.
One that’ll only end,
When the sun’s rays bend.
Our eyes set upon wealth—
We count our dollar bills;
our materialistic skills.
We avert our eyes from health,
“Aging” backwards,
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