Crashbox

At home finally I ponder the oddness. All vehicles broken, out of money, every plan trimmed and adjusted to fit the unstoppable events. It's so weird. One minute you have a handle on life, and the next you wonder who you even are. And what is sleep anyways?

I wish to write something beautiful, so here goes:

Of all the stars
Above my eyes
One is ours
The means of sighs

For friendship rare
vision clear
Another's care
Cancels fear

And now I lay
Under my cover
No price to pay
To keep my lover

Missing the minds
The flowers and walls
But peace it finds
In human halls