Stop telling me that space is big and empty. Stop telling me the moons not made of cheese. And the next person to tell me stars are dead and burned out by the time I see them sparkle, will get punched in the face.
Why ruin it? Why don't you believe in Santa, or the tooth fairy? Why kill the dreams of the innocent?
We are the monsters that everyone fears.
We are the dream killers and We are the heartless, the worst part is no one stops us.
The moon can be made out of freaking cheese if i want it to be, and yes santa comes to visit me once a year and no its not my mom that stole my teeth and left a few dollars. Shut up and let me dream. Let me watch the magic in the sky and PLEASE tell me stories that dont make sense, because life is to short, cold, and lonly to be a dream killer. Forget science for once and be a dreamer.
Yours,
Peter Van Houten.
No comments:
Post a Comment