11 views
childhood friends
The fruit is ripe, sitting in the tree,
rotting away in a polluted city.
Such a perfect one
doesn't belong in the hands
that crush it and bleed it for juice.
Bruised and bad, doesn't fall far
from the tree that thrives on booze.
Seventeen and down the drain
I look at you, it feels insane,
just yesterday you sat next to me in class,
I sit next to you on the floor
you stare at an empty glass.
We talk about what we don't
and the only one who'll remember
is the moon.
© mogsart
rotting away in a polluted city.
Such a perfect one
doesn't belong in the hands
that crush it and bleed it for juice.
Bruised and bad, doesn't fall far
from the tree that thrives on booze.
Seventeen and down the drain
I look at you, it feels insane,
just yesterday you sat next to me in class,
I sit next to you on the floor
you stare at an empty glass.
We talk about what we don't
and the only one who'll remember
is the moon.
© mogsart
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