Tell Me

My you look tired
Those bags hold up your eyes
As moonlight falls silent
On ghosts who came before
No one complaining
No voice raised up to evermore
As quiet as children
Telling secrets In the dark

Daylight breaks quickly
You rush back to join the world
Careful not to slip
Through the cracks in the floor
Grieving at a stoplight Drift off to a different age It’s not just the color You’re waiting on to change

And I say home

Tell Me anything
You hate about everything
The birds And the Trees
And all your self-serving sympathy
Now isn’t it bad
That You’re not immune
The prettiest of people With nothing to lose

And I say home

Tell Me Anything You hate about everything
The birds And the Trees
And all your self-serving sympathy
Now isn’t it bad That
You’re not immune
The prettiest of people With nothing to prove