eri burnett | d9 | fin
Mar 5, 2018 0:45:30 GMT -5
Post by Lyn𝛿is on Mar 5, 2018 0:45:30 GMT -5
erigeron "eri" burnett
fifteen
district nine
We are dandelion seedlings, blown every which way by the wind -
Ma says I ain't a man till my voice stops cracking, but I ain't a kid if I can't hit the high notes no more. I'm caught in between, a boy too small to fit in his uncle's hand-me-down shoes, a boy too exhausted by the world than one so young ought to be - the questions weigh me down. Questions with no answers that weave through District Nine, things like why is the sky gray and how come we don't grow grains no more and why do the Hunger Games keep existing.
I used to ask Ripred as a kid, but He never told me nothing - I suppose it doesn't really matter. We're all just little specks of dust, as fleeting as fruit flies, meaningless -
They tell me I just oughta work harder, but it all gets swallowed up and we don't get nothing out of it anyways - two, ten, forty years down the road if I'm lucky, I'm gonna look back and none of this is gonna make a difference.
There's a disconnect somewhere, that Ripred and Ma and everyone says I gotta be happy and cherish the life I've got - I can never seem to quit the thoughts that settle in the dark.
fifteen
district nine
We are dandelion seedlings, blown every which way by the wind -
Ma says I ain't a man till my voice stops cracking, but I ain't a kid if I can't hit the high notes no more. I'm caught in between, a boy too small to fit in his uncle's hand-me-down shoes, a boy too exhausted by the world than one so young ought to be - the questions weigh me down. Questions with no answers that weave through District Nine, things like why is the sky gray and how come we don't grow grains no more and why do the Hunger Games keep existing.
I used to ask Ripred as a kid, but He never told me nothing - I suppose it doesn't really matter. We're all just little specks of dust, as fleeting as fruit flies, meaningless -
They tell me I just oughta work harder, but it all gets swallowed up and we don't get nothing out of it anyways - two, ten, forty years down the road if I'm lucky, I'm gonna look back and none of this is gonna make a difference.
There's a disconnect somewhere, that Ripred and Ma and everyone says I gotta be happy and cherish the life I've got - I can never seem to quit the thoughts that settle in the dark.
