It’s a long walk
From the dream
To the graveyard
Soles of your shoes
Worn through
You try for your art
For your love
You try to write
But is it the words ?
Or the aesthetic
Would the life
The words
Stand on their own?
The hash
The filter
The aesthetic
We are group thought
Born into this newsfeed
Conditioned and groomed
And we are shot through
By the stale morning breath that is reality
Regarding Samuel 