Clueless and careless and wasted

just like a bird in the snow

I pick at these wounds on my face

then cry about it like a crow

I sit in the sunlight and laugh at

things that will soon overflow 

while birds crash in my window

I want to go on adventures

I want to live by the sea

but everything turns to a lecture

I start to ridicule me

I wait for a beautiful thing to

show up so I can let go

while birds crash in my window

All we see are dreams

of things impossible to see

and leave a world that’s blind

and pretend there’s nothing we can find

All these pretty things

come from poets with wings

I claim to have so little time

yet the world is what makes me alive