...you know how i feel.

Eyes white
broken jade
smoke filling up
a calmed glade.
Sparkle once
and twinkle twice
simply filled
and cold as ice.
The jogging thus
we come to find
isn't moving truly
but a lack of the mind.
Sit and die
with nothing there
faking each
and every dare.
Living, walking
dead go by
sitting singing
sweet lullabies
moving on with
stolen eyes
to dream again
so sweet tonight.