all your guidance, all your words

can’t tune out what you once heard

follow the path and you’ll get to the end

whats there when you arrive

you think its real, you think its pretend

you can cry alone and breakdown in a crowd

retreat in your head so you will never be found

hands held out as you watch them bleed

The best intentions sometimes ill-conceived

droplets point to where you have gone

the hue of red stains the walk you’ve been on

not all know of what you are yet to see

you are not perfect and this you taste

but future’s water washes the waste

hope hydrated for the day

when the walk leaves no stain and your words like painting, stay

They keep trying, gotta be better
Even when you’re smaller, even at your smallest.