There was a cold before a time A place so numb Some never had shoes for their feet’s sake. The life was dry and so denied No words left Some never had shoes to warm their way Forget the trace among the forces, but never the words. We sing fast to remember what we say We’re not a project, a body needs tree shaped lung And maybe, the city trails can show us how they burn. A letter touch, a metaphor, rewrite old flames Perhaps the cell belongs to mental world We walk across the illness of a brand new State. And maybe, we won't become a dry wood from the work Someday, we’ll turn back to the land we were born and raised Away, we spent some time, we aim to keep afloat So we pray, for those who lost the chances on the road