Bubble child a pretty fragile thing of pinks and blues and other multicoloured hues we watched you with delight in skipping dancing floating flight the wind changed and we moved on I turned to look but you were gone
at times i must be unfiltered, undiluted, pure me for if i let myself restrict, edit, reform one time too many this death grip will never ease for all the fear i hold of letting the wrong thing go is why i must let it flow
she gave me her nudes she was bare and naked and so out and open and i willingly accepted it because it wasnt the nudes that showed her body the physical aspects that made her beautiful it was the words she didnt choose and the spontaneity that left her either from her lips or her fingers or ink
she was as bare as her nudes and i accepted her for her.
Punching the numbers I get the feeling of being lost In the sequence of the memories I feel my feet touch the ground So when I open my bag There is emotional side of me Flickering in the dark.
Down in the pitch black I look for the tiny spark In the stories of old age I look forward to happy times And then I pull up myself Found that I can stand for a while more for a start.
The dark clouds clear and move The sun makes the way When mountains stand in path From a valley it shines And I know in truth Darkness guides to The road of eternal light When no other lamps make you sway.