Dust sleeping on your bookshelf
and all your plants are drying out
you are too busy to save yourself
is your mind heading for burnout?
The docile doves have
been mocked enough,
by the darting drones
that are built to snuff;
And even though
we have taken refuge
in these concrete jungles
our abode lies in the wild
Lay me down like a paper boat
I'll sleep tonight on this riverbed
let go of me, your hands are beat
hold on to my memory instead.