So it feels as if time pressed rewind
Then the silence reminds me
That feeling that feels so nostalgic
Is from the draft and finishes pieces before me
Searching for peace for me
That these will be left in the back of your minds
Unbothered by your lack of observation into a pattern, the cycle
On how generations pass on attitudes of fixed mindsets to their
children
Then, rely on old remedies to heal them
Not understanding that those bricks are a bit too brittle to build with
But you’ll stack them to the ceiling.
And in the end;
They’ll crumble and kill them.
