Oh pity me oh pity me I am of unclean stature at your pity me oh pity me
Innocent beside me as I blister in the sun and blossom into canava my paint spills out of your brushes
You start to form things that look familiar Maybe a farmhouse maybe a silhouetto of a man
But something innocent besides inside of you
Reaching for gold but not making any
Looking for answers but not finding any
The innocent is lost and never found
Dashed memories of innocence in the sun blistered Innocent Of the forgotten
Innocent is rotted away as new life blossoming flowers blossomed from your ground
Innocence is lost to the ground thoughts of gray give way to blue as the innocence lives with in you
Slam bang Poetry 💪 By Ben
Is it Conspiracy, Fact, or both? 