Walking the Moon
By Dillon Collins
It's a full moon tonight, I thought as I strolled in it's light. No destination, just walking off thought. Fighting down memories of fights that I've fought.
Questions of my character, this part is weaved in my soul. It's not wrong but my "friends" say it's time for it to go.
I can't drop it, and maybe that's bad. Is it wrong that I'm against fads? I like to stick out, I love to be different. Is this my original or am I a dissident?
I tell them I like the way I look, and I guess I suppose I do. But the main reason I dress this way is that it's different from them and you.
Of course I would love to be more popular. But I have this sneaking suspicion it's only for a moment in this hollow army of our pop-culture.
These constant "suggestions", they're wearing my nerves. My back is broken, flayed open from these tongue lashing pervs.
The clouds are coming up as the moon is goeing down. This morning, will there be sunlight? Or is my way hidden In shadows loud?