She sees a crumb, she picks it up. She seens another, picks it up. She's stooped over the floor, following this pathetic trail, and she can't even tell that she's not standing. She can't look up, so she thinks the sky is made of cement. She believes that ants are birds, and rugs are clouds, and she deserves better than that. But how do you make her stand? How do you make her see?
No comments:
Post a Comment