Alzheimer

Where could they dump the loads Those are stored in the grooves, Saplings from the concepts, Mature to mate with the wind, Dispersal through the volcanic dust, Sailing through the vision less mist, Run over the pixel mats to stain and roll, What they store, can’t be stolen, no more true, The thieves have arrived with fine erasers and blades, They work day and night under the pitch dark, To tear and rearrange the pages as the earth, The robbers never leave once sneaked into, Raise the boulder, not look for the beautified food, Laced with chemicals, to annihilate the barriers, The snatch thieves will arrive to thieve away their peace, The human have become the children, look for their baby cots..