What happens to the weight of it all?
It manifests itself in dreams
And isolates itself in your chest
Where it waits to blossom into something pure and justifiable.
For years, you water the earth
with bits of desire. Some through anger, most from fear
Roots take hold,
growing in shaky sand
while the seed never bursts from the ground
What kind of life is that?
To live underneath and not enjoy the sky.