The Wake Up

I take time, blind when i’m writing a line, they scream warrior dead or alive, I wonder if they realise I was raised in a war, what’s the fight? For the poor raw lost child,
said it before, but I’m feeling like your missing pieces, morning mist brings a peace, yellow leaves, feel the humble where the smoke of trees is. Guys is illing, lights and these high rise buildings, worried faces, the struggle faced is the paper chase.