Cradle.

I like to take my time
I like to feel dignified
is that a criminal offense?
a bit of broken glass,
tears from a pit of black,
and some old memories.
this is what I am,
this eveything.
thurst upon me.

It's not you or me.
just the energy.
nothing you could say
could change this rusted, senseless mind.
this obervant, empty canvas
under sheets of gray.
nothing you could say.

I like time to think and graze
as the earth said to the sun
I evolve,
bathe me with your rays.
I'm so sorry I think this way.
this is what I am,
this everything.
and there's nothing, nowhere, none of you could say.