Stowed Away

My hair flourishes as I chase my shadow on the grass
My fingers break the sun but move in a distraction
Like the big hand on a clock wasting time as it passes to the thirty, then to thirty three..
You feel like calling death

The air gets lighter with every breath
The atmosphere is blanketed with puffs of clouds
I feel like my lungs are being stepped on by a fat guy with the body count of twenty men
It's hard for me to hold

My arms are waved out
I waltz with the world every step I get
I'm impervious.. at least enough to dodge bullets
Give it a shot

The meadow of poppies are lined up like fleets
Only, they are harmless
My fury takes off neglecting the night
I'm stowed away to an encore