I come from broken buildings
all crumpled over in despair.
I come from penniless pockets
and broken dreams, It’s a hard
round world, constant infinity,
the you is I,
and I is U
and we are nowhere near
a true end.

The world is broken, bruised an
fair. She is that porcelain vase that
all to unwittingly we break,
yet still life continues.

Nature claims what
we lay wasted, she puts
to use the weak and weary walls
and soon they too are the womb of
life, they thought they would never be.

We are the ruins of
this modernity, we too
can be reborn, the
stones are not alone
and neither are we.

I suppose,
what I’m getting at
would be that.

From ruination comes new life,

So lick the ruins and don’t think twice.