Shantel, put your notebook away.
I’m sitting right here let’s hear what you have to say.
Changes must come and we shouldn’t run but are we supposed to refuse to move?
We are walking plants still growing with sunshine illuminating, unruly wind blowing so why can’t we cuddle through this, put down your red ink pens.
You say I think I know all, I’m just a simple man who usually stands but can fall, battling thoughts in my head, yeah they make want me to crumble.
Loving you is always here, I feel like I’m not good enough to kiss the bottom of your ears, some days I swear all I make are your tears, so I thought staying silent would make our coast clear.
You said grown men don’t really cry, so now I don’t show gentleness as I die, thinking of acceptable solutions and replies, to why I rather hide going full speed outside and look at stars while locked in our car.
Write whatever you want. Tell your friends I’m broken. We weren’t always this way. Done with my role in your play.