Selfish act of birthing,
brought forth to hear;
And then what ? We must
make things work for the best.
Is our breath for us or for
somebody else's use ?
Little sister I hope you can see
clearly now your route,
Little brother dirty your own
hands with life.
Perhaps it being anything and everything
watches for your falls; Or, maybe
nothing happens like that at all.
Only inside is the outside in reverse
of itself; Clouded sky falls over and
blanks your visionary vision.