My ink runs slow, my mind subdued
So many words, are misconstrued...
And as I slip, sliding down this distant path
I still hear the voices, the tin pot radio...
Beware of what you say ‘yes’ to
it is such a small word...
..break me down with the slightest touch,
and leave me leant upon a crutch...
They, took a bite out of my cake,
leaving teeth marks...
The wind breathes on a flower
at first gentle, then with force...
Falling during dreaming
kick-starts the butterflies...
I wish I could fly on air
I wish I could walk on clouds...
An illuminating sun basks in the glory of a virgin...
and the birds flight...
I have seen him barefoot with a stick in his...
drawing enigmas on the ground...
Apathy permeates minds,
drones replace thinkers...
If only time would run like a river,
yet into the opposite direction...