And, it has been confirmed honestly.
That my love is sincere.
All of the days and months of the year.

And, it has been validated.
That you're the source of my heart.
It's up to us not to let others try to pry us apart.

Innuendos, has constantly tore many into different direction.
And sometimes, it's based around folks seeking satisfaction.

Oh, it's has been seen.
That you're my motivation.
The object of every love song I sing.

And it has been admitted too.
That I be lost simply without you.
All these written words are true.

Finally, realize this.
Never will I deny loving you

How does one's thinking actually work. Should I explain, yes I will. You can call me Dr. Phil if you like, my friends do.

Thinking, we all know comes from the mind, yet reacts in different manners. There acts of movements, there thoughts of desire, reaction that some say it's not a thought, that *******. How long does it take for a thought to get to your heart, the biggest decision maker. I know, some of you are going to think that the heart has nothing to do with it. If you think your right your heartless.

Let me not get off the point.

Thoughts come into your head, you have about 70,000 thoughts a day, give or take.  With these thoughts you think of your experience from the past. Things that made you feel good, bad, sad, pain, hurt, all the norm. Before you can ever decide what you have to do, you have to think about it. Some will say no, I will say ******* again. Example, you go tho the store with a friend, to the candy isle. You each get something different, you get what has pleasures you in the past from what you desire. Desire is something you want based on past experience or it could be from something you heard that stimulated your mind. With desire brings pleasure. Like *** maybe, haha.

I don't want to make this long:

Boolean Logic:
((((Information brings  thoughts)+ (( past feelings)+ (rationalize))
                     (Divide by heart = outcome))))

I know most everyone know this, but we sometimes need a refresher course in life. Especially when we start making mistakes, again.

I can rest assure that you had to use your mind and think about this one.

Thanks for following me as I follow you.
God Bless
David

Love is a flame
Consuming two souls,And
Melting them to one
But
Only when it is real and true

Fake love is *****
Dusty and rusty
Boring and tiring
It is lengthy
That hours don't elapse
Days are months and months are years

True love is nice
Sweet and short
Everyday ends early
And every night is short
Years are months and months are days...days elapse like hours

I hate fake love

I love true love

But I do?
I do follow my heart

So,
"dear my heart lead me to whoever has true love"
Because to quench my thirst,
Clean is paramount.

And he said
I’m going to
bust your nose
and I said

you and whose army?
And he said
I don't need no army
with you Benny Coles

I could take you
with one arm
tied behind my back
take your glasses off

I said
then you'll see
just the one me
and did he?

Janice asks
no he threw a punch
but he missed
and I caught him

a left to his right ear
and he folded up
like an old tent
she laughs

shouldn't laugh really
Gran said fighting is brutal
and so lower class
but you make it

sound funny
his glasses fell off
and he couldn't see
to find them

so I picked them up
for him
and he put them on
and the wire

behind the ear
was bent
so I straightened it
for him

and he threw a punch
to my head
but caught
my shoulder instead

and so I poked him one
on the chin
and that packed him in
and he walked off

calling me names
but fighting is
a rough thing
she says

I know
I say
I prefer stamp-collecting
or going to the cinema

and seeing cowboy films
but sometimes
a kid's got to do
what a kid's got to do

and she seems impressed
and we walk along
the road from school
to meet her Gran

by the subway
don't tell my Gran
she says
sure I won't
I say no way.

She sits next to him
on a side seat
on the bus;
they're going to
Waterloo Rail Station
to watch the steam trains.

She holds in the palm
of her small hand
the 3d piece
her mother
had given her;
it's sweaty;
the 12 sides make
a slight impression
on her skin.

She moves
side to side
as the bus
turns corners;
Benny's arm
touches hers
as they move.

Why you have to go
with him
to see the trains,
God only knows,
her mother had said,
but at least
he's a decent sort,
going by his mother.

She likes Benny's mum;
she smiles at her,
and is soft spoken,
unlike her own mum,
who bellows
and spits words
and slaps her.

She looks out
the window,
then looks sideways
at Benny.

He's looking forward,
his hazel eyes
taking in the man opposite,
his quiff of light brown hair
bouncing with the bus's motion.

He's got the money
his mum has given him
in his jean's pocket,
along with a small penknife,
old conker and string,
handkerchief washed grey.

Beside him sits Lydia
the girl from downstairs
in the flats.

She's skinny
and her lank hair
seems out of place
with her bright eyes.

He suggested going
to the station to see
the steam trains;
he loves the smells
and sights and sounds
of the trains.

He had a job
persuading her mother
to let her go,
but eventually
she agreed,
(must have been
his smile).

The man opposite
stares at Lydia;
his ******* eyes
drinking her in.

Benny stares back at him,
gives the man his best
Bogart stare,
even holding his head
at an angle.

The man's green tie
is stained;
the shirt is too small
and seems to want
to escape from his body.

The man stares at him,
his eyes moving to him
like two black slugs.

Benny touches Lydia's
small hand and says:
soon be there.

The man ends
his black eyed stare,
and looks away.

Well done, Bogey,
Benny says
inside his head,
and senses Lydia's hand
grip her 3d piece coin;
her bright eyes showing
small portraits of him
in each one,
absorbing him
like dark cloth
does the sun.