No one loves apathy
But everyone's obsessed anyway
We think it's cool in our head
But others find it cruel
Steel reinforced concrete walls
Wrought iron fences with the sharpest points
Around a heart beating with a soft rhythm
The richest man and the poorest man
Are equal at the core
One has a mansion, the other a street
But they will never be satisfied with home
Where is it, home?
Is it where the heart is?
Because steel, iron, and concrete can only hold up so long
Before a bomb goes off
And kills your content
Satisfaction means nothing
But so does depression
As well as perfection
So we may as well make do
With simply, living
YOU ARE READING
A Collection of Short Works
RandomI get ideas sometimes and I have to write them out.
