You're picking a bone, not flowers

This is a poem my friend wrote, and had wanted me to share. Enjoy! :D

You have your way of

Turning this black sky blue

But you’re foolish enough

To buy the sermon I’m selling you



I’m the sound soaking through your speakers

Playing you a lawless tune

You’re the static in my airwaves

Playing every song underneath the moon



We’ve been trying

But this spark won't ignite

No



We’ve been lying

But the truth keeps falling out

Oh



Counting carbs

Yet she still can’t fit the glass slipper

And this life begins to strip her

To nothing but a killer smile



It’s time to cover up

With some mascara

Time to tell all that terror



That things won’t be the same again

Even those things that seem to never end



Because you’re picking a bone

Not picking flowers

This clock moves on by hours

Taking time that we don’t have