Squares, rectangles
They appear in my foreground.
Over grass
Always within another
Consume and grant me sound
More gas
Garbage, forgotten but timeless
Holding the moments I’ve found
I’m making this line purposely not rhyme.
Squares, rectangles
They appear in my foreground.
Over grass
Always within another
Consume and grant me sound
More gas
Garbage, forgotten but timeless
Holding the moments I’ve found
I’m making this line purposely not rhyme.