Middle of the street
almost waiting for the hit
it's early quiet 

Different angles 
But we need one another 
lifting and purpose 

The future does seems
smaller the further away
complexity shrinks 

The curtain is down
the performer ties his shoes
the reflection waits 

I lean against walls
made out of many patterns 
please do impress me

I left you behind
running towards a loud call
a cup barely full 

You hit a ceiling
it turns out to be the floor
confusions do rhyme 

From closing my eyes
dark forests appear to me
a crownless darkness 

A red wall black line
divided unequal parts 
decide you are on

In a bright grey world 
happiness is now for sale 
deflating balloons 

I am hanging here
but not by a thread it seems
a wishful hanging?