Chemistry 1/4/02 (Old, eh?)


Like a Broken branch
falling from a tree
you tell me about
this stoichiometry
And that our
is slowly dying
No more reaction, you see
But in the loss
of things this dear
it's hard to think
these pages are clear
and colorless like Water
that you drink like air
and blood from my veins
and you don't stop there
you tell me that
you just can't Care
And you accuse me
of staining our
of destroying
the purity
that we found
in insanity.