World of Ink
Is it in the paper?
Is it in the ink?
Is it in the mindless words
The teachers make you think?
Does it scream inside like madness
Clawing to be free?
Is it the echoes of your classmates
Branching out like withered trees?
Do you look inside to save it,
Child-like naïveté?
Or is it buried under layers
Of dead frost-bitten dreams?
Does it bloom under spring sunshine?
Does it unfurl to meet the rain?
Do the chromatic swirls of color
Twine around your brain?
Are you suffocating slowly
Beneath monolithic clouds?
Can anybody hear you?
Are your words spoken aloud?
Will anybody save you
Lost among the wreck?
Or are you just a casualty
Of a world so sick?
Is it in the ink?
Is it in the mindless words
The teachers make you think?
Does it scream inside like madness
Clawing to be free?
Is it the echoes of your classmates
Branching out like withered trees?
Do you look inside to save it,
Child-like naïveté?
Or is it buried under layers
Of dead frost-bitten dreams?
Does it bloom under spring sunshine?
Does it unfurl to meet the rain?
Do the chromatic swirls of color
Twine around your brain?
Are you suffocating slowly
Beneath monolithic clouds?
Can anybody hear you?
Are your words spoken aloud?
Will anybody save you
Lost among the wreck?
Or are you just a casualty
Of a world so sick?