A little pitter,
a pause...

Following the clouds,
guiding a way...

Mind stripped of normal reactions,
and replaced with life time worries...

A question,
on a paper card...

Thoughts are screamed,
into your mind...

A roar filled the bowl,
minimum of one million bears...

In dreams,
your words are finished...

A still butterfly rests it's silver wings,
perched upon the gray branches of an oak...

She said she'd watch over me,
and now she has...

Say I'm beautiful,
I will say, I am not...

Decorated faces are for unborn minds.
Smiling with lips not of theirs, but of a model...

Looking out a dust smeared window,
the outside world runs...