my mother told me that the world is made of two kinds of people

the ones who are lost beyond all hope who leave the world without creating a ripple

and then there are the ones that bath in sun and golden light

i always wondered what happened to those between dim and bright

the ones that float through time and space so effortlessly that they go unseen

how do you fall in love if you're like my old pair of jeans

shoved into darkness and passed over for prettier things

their bodies collapse falling like screeching violin strings

and like a broken tree in a forest no one hears them scream

their faces are painted over in careful smiles praying that they wake from this horrible dream

my mother told me that the world is made of two kinds of people

but her logic is shattered on the floor in pieces

because there are plenty of other grey undefined marks

waiting and waiting for the day that someone finally ignites their spark