Cardboard cutouts on the floor People wish that you were more like what they wanted you to beEventually they won't have much of you at all in their theology The walls are closing in on youYou cannot be contained at all I don't want to make you smallI don't want to fit you in my pocketA cross around my throatYou are brighter than the sun You're closer than the tiny thoughts I have of youBut I could never fathom you at all Broken moldings all aroundBroken people hit the ground When they discover that you're not here for our benefitYou love in spite of usYou use the least of us to prove the strong aren't really strong at all
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