it's hard to build, can be hard to destroy
life's like a lego city
built tight under a rolling pin,
and a set of size 25 nike's
that just love to stomp
we tried so hard
we built so much
but in the end we just tore it all down,
who really cares how or why?
this isn't some historical document
this isn't some glorifying battle for one side,
this is just life.
it happens everyday all the time
so here we are in the end,
holding some broken lego memories
collecting no dust inside of that old, cracked glass bottle
and the worst part about it,
is when we look back for no matter how long
there will always be something inside of it,
shining.
and then we'll see the rest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem