Restricted. Arms bound to keys, Sticky Shift Five. Paces too slow for my body to keep up. I've grown bored of the same get-up. The cold aircon of the office Licks my skin Leaving behind the feeling Of monotonous despondency.
Changing tidal waves, movements of my true homeland. A Taurus old ways.
We are not our mistakes. This is a lesson Hardly learned and even harder to understand We are not our mistakes But we are accountable for them. There is no such thing as bad people Just good people who do bad things. At least I thought so It is hard to believe this When I … Continue reading Serving Humanity
Springtime, no me time suffocating on pollen. When I became. Bloom
Strokes as soft as a feather hues of reds and yellow blends of blues and greens abstract still life is for the artist. Taking in every moment you yourself seem to miss. So cheerful is the artist full of all sorts of glee to finally take her canvas and go forth marking history.
It’s a game I’ve learned to master, much like a craft I’ve developed a nack for See, the key is to make it as real as you can, without that being true. Because even the slightest emotion, can set you on the path of doom.
Mr Frog are you lonely? Is that why you've come here for warmth you need so dear? I must beg pardon as you will not find such thing in a heart that know none of those frivolous things If you'd ask I may have considered then again I may just be bitter. Mr. Frog I think … Continue reading