You say you will close it down
Yet things are easily hidden...
It's clear that I can't live with you
And I can't live without you...
I.listen to my great neice crying and screaming...
Two months old and inconsolable...
somewhere deep under
there’s a poet in me...
Even though the sound of my cries
Can only be heard in my mind...
The moon was sat tight
After Dusk’s light...
When we reach the summit
of any genre of truth...
When we are not equal, we lose each other,
we lose the winged self that once carried us...
“I gotta”
is a complaint...