Predicted expectations or corrupted conquests?
Who say we have to choose?
And do we have to always follow rules?
I say anarchy, create our own rules
Stretch and bend, expand and recycle
Words can be used in whatever shape or form
They break hearts, they make us happy or sad
They make us travel to places we haven’t been
Taste the food we’ve always wanted to have
Touch our hearts and souls
There’s order in disorder, system in chaos
It’s how we want them to behave
Or sometimes we are surprised
With what they can come up with
I say, words are our friends or enemies
Predicted expectations or corrupted conquests
They don’t really matter
(c) ladyleemanila 2020