What a time to be alive,

I say, lying in rubble,

Somehow in my own bubble,

A thin protection survived.

What a time to have eyes,

Though smog clouds all nice sights,

It clears somehow, with might,

A shimmering surprise.

Infected, is the earth, as one,

Ill as the minds that freely roam,

Yet the cure hides, and if I comb

Through the knots, this pain will be done.

Buried to dirt, time,

Long forgotten,

Laughs and warm smiles,

Thrown in a bin,

Needle in a haystack,

Its glints almost bare,

The beauty is fading,

But yet it’s still there,

Embrace it when you can.

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When i get to 200 followers im going to do something but idk what (i need ideas)