Don’t draw me in,
my skin looks terrible in pencil,
and I’d rather be on another page,
in another place.
I was built for another age,
faraway in the future,
where the fractured lands are laughing together,
so don’t wage a war, when I’m just trying to watch TV,
don’t pull my strings and don’t bother me with all this.
If an honest person sees a lie,
are they still honest when they honour their promise to be neutral?
That’s the question I’ve been asking all day,
because I see this guy,
who is somewhere that he shouldn’t be,
and if I speak,
a war starts,
hearts shatter and emotions splatter all over the place,
and I’m asked to place my loyalties somewhere safe,
so they can’t escape and defect,
but you forgot that I’m only loyal to the idea of a quiet life.
Don’t draw me in,
my skin looks terrible in pencil,
don’t make me carry your harried, howling conscience,
when I’m having enough trouble with my own.
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