It's too late to watch me fall because I've hit the bottom of a pile of leaves in autumn. It's too hard for me to see but I found a trap door and it leads to spring. You have taken their voices so the birds can't sing. Thats ok they still can fly. Oh no wait you have clipped their wings Leaving behind a feather so I am just stuck here deciding weather I use it to write or I save it and wish for the birds to fly. I am stuck on this idea that my mind keeps spitting out I am just another creature knocking hour glasses down hoping the glass will crack, so out will come spilling the sand so I can feel the sand between my toes it's a feeling I once used to know. Ok I have one last thing to say before I go I'd hope you'd take your finger and point me towards a dark and empty road and I will not slow, no I won't go home I planted a seed here years ago and it continues to grow As you think about light you may want to turn back but you cant and your home is far from in sight, I could have told you that And as our eyes start to wander we continue to ponder, and still you will wonder why I am stuck on this idea that my mind keeps spitting out I am just another creature knocking hour glasses down hoping the glass will crack, so out will come spilling the sand so I can feel the sand between my toes it's a feeling I once used to know. (so take this quil, and write this down, you have the will, to turn around.) I am stuck between these walls and as the walls cave in I can climb up no walls can keep us out, keep us from getting out because I am stuck on this idea that my mind keeps spitting out I am just another creature knocking hour glasses down hoping the glass will crack, so out will come spilling the sand so I can feel the sand between my toes it's a feeling I once used to know. so take this quil, and write this down, you have the will, to turn around