Images on the sidewalk
Speak of dream's descent
Washed away by the storms
To graves of cynical lament
Dirty canvases to call my own
Protest limericks carved
By the old pay phone
And in your picture book
I'm trying hard to see
Turning endless pages
Of this tragedy
Sculpting every move
You compose a symphony
And you plead to everyone
See the art in me
Broken stained glass windows
The fragments ramble on
Tales of broken souls
An eternity's been won
As critics scorn the thoughts
And works of mortal man
My eyes have drawn to you
In awe once again
--Jars of Clay
So today is an interesting day... I'm in a odd, introspective mood... Don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing yet... we'll see.
On a happy note, my mommy bought me enough food to feed an army... so I'll have food when I go to school. That'll be good. maybe I won't kill my roommate. Maybe.
This is my brain..... in part, at least.
