my distraction grows in leaps and boundsnin every year gone by.nmy addresses now so lovely penned,nthe blind would shed a tearnmaybe i don't need the things that you and you neednand maybe i'm the shadow castnon drying grass by dying trees.nna scar is only so when cuts run too deepnforgiveness rests upon the weightnof what we give and what we keepnnmaybe there's a footprint i left a life ago.nif so, there's something beautifulnout there, somewhere, i knownnwords can only reach the earsnof whom you aim to speakna stone can only rollnso far as ground is not too steepnnand i aim to speak to generationsni wish to touch but onendrive to tears that something beautifulnmay never come undone