Like Burning Old Diaries

This would be the time
When I would splash cold water on my face
To kickstart my senses,
So that I can be alert once again
And aware of my surroundings,
But never in control.

Like burning old diaries,
I am the master of choosing
Not to remember my youth.
Every new building
Will have new posters,
Because I tore the last ones down.

I've been thinking we should tear down these walls,
To make room for our new growth,
To inspire new emotion, and
To bury old desires.

Like burning old diaries,
I am the master of choosing
Not to remember my youth.
Every new building
Will have new posters,
Because I tore the last ones down.