Poem: The Words

I think I need a dream.

I need to feel.

The holes that surrounding me are getting closer to taking me.

The time is not running.

The love is building.

Sounds of danger is the only thing that seems to matter.

Why are my trees not planning roots.

My seeds are living through the grounds that happiness dies.

There are no thoughts that can be had.

Saying the words, now is making me mad.