The Pattern

15 May

You grow up only to realize that the things that you know are only the things you have seen,
You realize you are a cog in the pattern machine,
You fight it growing up swearing you wont be the same

But the fire wont burn away from the flame,
We do what we see because it is only what we know

We get older but the child inside never grow,
Trying to break my patterns and patch up the scars

The struggle is endless between the mud I’m made of and the stars
Trying to stay awake

Aware not to drown

Treading my head above the water

Wearing the heavy world on a crown,
Struggling to keep off the black outs

And meditate all the white in i can endure

Breathing in all the light all that is pure,
Dom dom dom dom

I wonder is it the sound of my heart,

Or the cursed pattern machine


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