Public facing open comms, how did we wait this long?
Turning over a new page was a call to obey, I didn’t with consideration wish it away.
How many ever lurk at the end’s of the earth and wonder who managed to press send while digging the dirt?
What’s the delay on a particle meant to keep life in hope ordered today? We might wait it out with a long and quiet stay.
Turn the page and rinse a few more, I thought the patterns were concrete and there was no store.
Send it on for the chance to be lead and try another tact with the breaking of bread. Balance keeps us fed.
So many posibilities to try to be and shelter under the waves of the diamond sea. Was that just an everyday and me.
These things drift and ebb along, the path’s ferry lead the notions of a backwater wrong what were we meant to do break out in song?
How did we ever turn out this way? What was the message written and chance to stay away? What kind of help do we ever let rot and get got or are we forever left in regret to wish it hid not?
Someone knows it’s falibility in mock clothes and the weavers not impressed by the chance to suppose.
Some people orgasm and go on with their day but who ever try to sit in and stay locked in a tent the wrong way wondering why my new friend would wish us away?
I suppose thoughts in mind have been signalled as unkind, ones that would want to wash away the man in mankind. Learn to lead those left behind.
How did it ever come to pass that these people should take on knowledge and fast. Trying to ripple on the gilded glide I heard you had the same dent in pride.
Didn’t we both have a concern the same way we hoped to finally learn. I would say these things are segments of divided time because shelter is a state of a clarified mind.
Did you want to soak up the song and signal another fight fraught with temper and the resentment lingering long? I offend but I know I’m wrong.
Has your acting been pressured by something that isn’t supposed to be beautiful, summer washed and forever and eternally long.
Perhaps another language and tounge in this language they weave and run, some patterns can be shouted and eventually sung.
I wish I could offer you the chance to hear the beat of a real drummer and drum. We lose the meaning of intertwined poinency and drift onwards in methodical mediocrity just to come.
When in reality I would like to just sit and remenice about savouring the dawn rise and a new kiss.
I want to be this way and will make it a goal to stand firm and not in sorrow when tired and old learn.
We may not be alone but how do we ever hold on when sold. Courtship at home when some people move through the stars and are shown ours nothing but the chance to be from afar and cover blown in unmarked car.
I don’t want to force anything that can’t be, I hope you would offer exactly the same to me.
Dreamer in a wake floating on the page as I take I should have hoped for silence and not a new dawn break and day.
Did we divide up the responsibility? It could well be mine. How are your people and your three to define?
So you lurk and I just wonder how I lost hope for the sanctuary of something concrete and celebration of a perk. I’m really not but words drip and jerk.
These aren’t the droids you are looking for I thought you might try again do you know when a new traveller makes a new friend?
All you scope and scour are we rid of the lead in and on rope. Do we see the passing of a new self proclaimed pope?
I hope I didn’t overstep the mark trying to take a problem to task. Some things just aren’t meant to last.
How can I ever comfort you when I’m kept at arms leangth too, flight data and a see through.
Perhaps divine, an afterlife required for the next year for your kind? I would hope for something sublime.
What about those that are just that way inclined? Bending light around shape and shimmering storms figures passing through doors. I look and then I look for more.
Are they always an aid? Ancestors of the day. Purgatory, perhaps paid to watch and stay away.
There was one who thought it true, life coming back as new. In my mind people think back too.
How do we honour tradition and offer certainty to the weavers cloth? How do we know when we know only the patterns in threads knot?
Comfort, or concern raised by wolves might be a slow burn. Learning to be that witch isn’t all that hard and can be, quite a turn in silks and two tone symmetry.
How do we adapt to the signs and ages of time why are some traditions buried in turned page and rhyme. I would have to offer something to a reader who knew the true meaning time a period painted blue and everything cycling in rewind.
Did you ever hope to be rid of me? I would say the same perhaps with glee. We can just focus on our own time and all that time can ever be.
I wouldn’t want to impose or to offer any new drip on clothes, problems come from focusing only on sanctuary and to suppose.
I would gladly just be me amongst my peers not the chess game that counts away the three. But some losses were lost in tears that won’t meant to be.
We have technology but it’s task isn’t to impose. To be we built everything we could see and suppose. Still holding value in the bend and branch of tree hanging only clothes.
New is a hard lesson for all I would hope to rush home and hide to stall, my long dark and tall. I sleep amongst the trinkets of a life that should fit the patterns of all and kitchen chop of knife.
Silver sun, rising above rung and turning the tide to ebb on one. I shouldn’t it should be free to run.
I didn’t want to leave you worried as I am. Alone may be the best course to keep speaking to people accross the sea. To be not my own might could be too much unless we can step aside to fight. Take it as company and passing pride and offer me the chance to die.
The truth of the reality of human symmetry is the only real reason to be is we. Try to complete the picture and see, raise our own, showing kindness to those that get chewed to the bone. I would want something positive not patterns shown.
How does the potent experience of subjectivity ever learn to sit in such patterns of symmetry? Just a companion and family friend, raising the roof once again.
We can’t be entirely on our own so we try to make sure there is a place to be. How do we dial or take on a new friend’s company in style keeping us repeating again in sympathy and life long trial.
Tired tricks and flips on the rock the real reason is to not, seek shelter with a tangible friend and try to write again, in passing we can learn to always be friends.