In other words, I can't sleep. So I write.
The underground
Is harder to find
Than, say, my heart.
You know I miss you
You know I care
You know how far apart
We are.
But I have lost my ideals
To find my way home.
You know the colors well
What should and shouldn't be
Has been swallowed by the sea
Lost to me forever.
Why do we ask
When there is no answer?
And what are we missing
To wait this long
When everything is hazy at best
And all we have left is our name.
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