It's a box where children put the things they find out on the streets,
But it's also what I call my heart when I'm alone to listen to the beats.
It's like everyone around me expects to be elites,
Like every moment of my life is just eternal repeats.
Society concerned with the number of likes on their Tweets,
People flocking together like they're building the fleets.
Vegetarians everywhere concerned with what everyone eats,
Relationships falling apart because everyone cheats.
All we ever wanted was a piece of the peace,
But every hope of that just tends to decease.
YOU ARE READING
Yours Truly, Me.
Poetry" I can lie just like they tell me, or I can break this crazy spell/ I can fake my way to heaven, or take my sorry ass to hell, " -Yours Truly, Me.
