abstract thoughts broken ones, maybe they're always there keeping me guessing if nobody knows why or what they are why do they come? how are they made? abstract dreams only for the artistic only for the wise but since when have i been wise? when i see the sky lighting up with the rise of a new day early in the morning i hide i don't want new days i want to stay here i want to turn back the pages and read my favorite chapters over and over and over
