and he stood strong as if he was the tree of life
parading around waving his flag like he was someone savior
like he could form cobwebs and sensations
as they wonder what his secret was
he slumps over broken egg shells and crumpled leaves he left behind
and as the flies consumed their pieces
it trails a lingering falseness in his walk
the roots saturated in confusion
who will he ever save
Freegrandmaa 