"Innocence,... its like a window.
You see, it only shows you a small fraction of the world,
a small fraction of what's outside.
The walls around it keep the innocence alive."
"Well, my friend,
my window has been broken
and my walls has been removed.
For I no longer have my innocence.
and neither do you."
Ignore the fact this is just spaced out sentences...
YOU ARE READING
The Conflicted Color Pallet
Poetrythis is more or less my diary shared to literally the entire world. have fun exploring my deepest thoughts.
