Rumours are forest fires started by fireflies
By harmless gestures and words spoke through screams and cries
And the word like, transforms to love, transforms to sex, and a x on text isn’t a kiss
But a complex anagram, of a crush or a man plan
Romance is spoiled, and secrets unturned
cus these fire flies can burn, like paper tissues in the sky
And leave ashes in eyes, and fill the mouth of those who scream
and ties them down with burning debris.
And now i can’t see, and now i can’t speak, cus these ashes that people spread
fill your ears so you can’t hear what i am wanting to say, to you, everyday.
So my true friends, my water, and the truth is a rain cloud, and the suffering that i endure thanks to these weak flies, flies around my head, never stopping, never home bound.
So an kiss on a text, from me, is an x, a harmless x, nothing more, nothing less. Not sex, or complex puzzle, or a muddy puddle of lies.
Stupid fire flies, and cardboard forests,
don’t you know that flame is not something that helps you grow tallest, but shrinks you to the smallest, insignificant....thing.
So, you know what.
I will grow my leaves, and stand with tree roots firmly in the ground, for these fires and flies won’t burn this forest or make any sound attempt to making me ash.
My mouth is open, and my friends are the wind, blowing away the ash to a bin,
My mouth is open and my friends are the monsoons when the flames ride up higher
My mouth is open and I will reflect any rumour that comes my way, for I will stay truest, to my family and my mates.
If you have nothing to do but shit out fireflies,
You should think, and by the time you have learnt from your ways
I will be invincible, for this forest is stronger and it is here to stay.
