The truth makes us cry, so lie, lie, lie.
Some lost, more left, most gone when we die.
Can we choose our reality lived?
Or are all our dreams by real life shivved?
Can the rare thrive next to day by day?
Will grayscale minds send bullets my way?
I say, trade your bullets for flow’r seed.
Out-create the destruction & greed.
Live & let live, each to their own lies.
Grow your own world with limitless skies.

