A part. (poem)
My train fell apart
My train fell apart
If life were like a map laid out before me
i would still pick the stars to press my pinpoint into
and watch it unravel the fabric,
more brillant with every indention
evidence of my absolute intentions
and my penchant to aim straight for perfection
One pinpoint can hold my map up on the wall
why do so many take it out and watch it fall?