Coming from the deep end of life,
You rise from the ground.
You would do anything to save them,
But you fall from the sound.

You pick up the broken pieces,
One by one.
All you do is stare blindly,
Your heart dropping like a ton.

My pieces grow into shapes and colors,
Brown, Gold, Black and Orange.
They mean something,
But you do not understand.

You shut everything out,
Letting steep voices in your troy.
And this is certainly why,
You are my Starboy.