it is like it is
rules will be rules...

I write and write
to write what I wish to write...

a drink on the brink of falling,
oh falling...

an apple and an Apricot
appear afore an ape...

I wish to draw a line,
not one that divides...

I thought I thought
but no thought came to mind...

I want to think
though I think I think...

an apple on a tree
a birdie on a bush...

Shh… let me hear it.
the room is echoing my emotions...

bleeding emotions isn’t my fort
but sometimes these wounds of mine...

Nah, I’m just a cloud passing by
I shade a few from the sun...

well, it is what it is, isn’t it?
The time has come yet again...