dusty yellow diamonds .

old dusty diamonds ... we reinvent.
red water leaks, rusted pipes are spent.
here and there, then gone again .
the thoughts of middle beginning the end.
if its those bars that trap you,
let loose, and lose a friend .
you gain much more,
there's no pretend.
but the piece you lost will never be returned.
the songs you sing, and those green bridges you burned.
the process is difficult, with the targets fighting stance,
but with pain comes perfect slates,
and soft finished floors for feet to dance.
rocking chairs, and change for good,
escape these yellow bars, and rain gray wood.