Mixture | Teen Ink

Mixture

June 26, 2008
By fara renner BRONZE, Somerset, New Jersey
fara renner BRONZE, Somerset, New Jersey
3 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I have something to tell and it hurts so badly.
It's the case and coast in a newspaper ad.
The wrong and right collide inspired, of pain.
A thousand years of what the old generation calls “shame".
We search for a purpose thinking we are so worthless.
Over time things become clearer but you cant even see your real face in the mirror.
For all the lies you told and the sickness that started to grow, caught up to you.
Each and every fairy tail that inspired you just can’t decide with you.
You sit on your bed contemplating life as they speak behind your back.
Unaware of how the truth can never lack.
Tonight there will be a new world.
A world where no one gets hurt.
Misshapes will never occur and mix tapes will always stir, the emotion of love.
Breaking all the words down to nothing.
Hopefully something.
Their eyes begin to twinkle cause now they have a secret to tell.
It's the new world what everybody was dreaming of.
To bad it will crash because the screaming dove.
That always files above.
So all they sing is a way to get out.
An escape that might never come out.
For all the days of a perfect world gone to waste.
There's nothing even to trace.
The belongings of this place cant even be recognized.
Rhyming words seem to sprinkle faith.
Her face and his face don't even look safe.
Hold hands together now and hope you make it better now.
Escape from your mind. And walk into hers...
Hope you can find the past that never occurred...
Walk away from yesterday in your old hate.
Be thankful that you have lost your entire fate.
Cruel and shameless you can’t be so painless, now that we are stronger.
The world comes together and unites.
One by one and two by two they walk.
They never get left behind from the teaching mind.
Please come together and make it all better they sing.
Don't see anybody can’t and fight anybody who cares.
Skies darken and hearts dropping' down.
Earth, soil, and mud mixture collapses over them.
Imprints left that grow with sorrow.
This might be the end of a new beginning of circle.
This time we might get it right in a symphony.
Let it rain on us and let us sing.
We are a mixture of everything.


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