#1
Wells draw the world for us.
We're walking through lit streets,
the silhouettes on concrete, the only water we drink;
the bucket's bone dry.

We are eroding ourselves.
Waiting for some driftwood to come up
out of the stone pit beneath,
and I can cling to it, keep my head above
the life that will drown me.

Oh, the answers come,
but then they never end.
And they become questions again;
they fuse into one big connection
that doesn't fit,
that doesn't stop the slow, steady drift
away.

And it will never quit.
I'll keep looking, hoping,
until I'm at my end;
a search for a missing person
who will never be seen again.
We're only strays.
#2
There's a very overused yet still commonly applicable saying in the world of writing, and it goes like this:
Show, not tell.
Today I feel electric grey
I hope tomorrow, neon black
#3
Quote by Ganoosh
There's a very overused yet still commonly applicable saying in the world of writing, and it goes like this:
Show, not tell.


I don't understand how that applies to this piece.
We're only strays.