The ink is fading on my page
Fragile the threads I choose to weave...

The hypnotic phenomena, lying dormant within the...
Is without doubt, food for thought...

Flying through my wall
Jamming up my personal space...

By engaging my curiosity
I hope to make a point...

There is no recipe to follow
There is no right way no wrong way...

I got me a monkey on my back
related to my knife and fork...

Earth bound, tied to who I am!
No brush to canvas to releases the emotions...

I admit, I am deep!
The bubble gum and popcorn brigade...

Can you foretell tomorrow?
The past lives in my poems...

If it is wrong, don’t do it
But they do it...

How did normal become abnormal?
Pronouns, names for things now up for change...

Time knows the secrets of your past.
Anthologies of your memorise...