when you make an impression
on people
they literally tickle
that is because they never felt
that way.
imagine when you say
they could almost pray
to silence the day
to just hear you stay.

when your days
are numbered
you keep to a standard
you like everything you
did not
and you get back what you
hadn't
imagination fathom
time ticks crucial
it does not let you
you down
it focuses until
you rowd
you  give up
you  had a bout

but when your days
are prelimenary
you carelessly
tick
list
intentions
to a miss
unknowing
is your forte
to unrest
everything seems
less
not enough
time slowly slips
to dictation
it strips
and you grip
going back
is a dip
you are not ready
to nip.

guilt,
to an impression
it's a fierce
cloudy tierce
a sound to it
pierce
but to a feeling
it's a rear
winding sear,
a songe
would
hear
a silhouette
pear.

guilt,
a wave
to it
steers
but the force
with it
nears.
you feel
mere and
empty
with tears,
an illusion
would clear
the fear is
so dear.

above a cloud
there sails a loud
it's happy it is
not about
it likes to have
its way allowed
so of it goes
to never lowers,
sunshine may doze
but sky is froze
to such a rowd
nothing does bowed
then to send it
out
to where it's nought.

the abyss
in which you steep is deep
come out of your
keep
and see if you can leap
outwards to the horizon.
the sky appears
to sleep
when you weep,
only when you look up
time has truly
broke up
to a sheer blue
to rev up your view
you could almost
flew.
downwards is never true
see up for a clue
you are almost due.

the nearest thought to myself is love
to have a feeling is to have a meaning.
the next bestest close is trust
to lead one another is plus, the reason i must.
what is left, the rest,
is counterbalance ,emphatic. static is erratic.
and to that
i can only discount lust. it messes with my first.

lover overs hate
it could
almost plate
a silver lining
blade
the shine is
fade
but the sharp
is trade.
let it all
sail
the aggravation
bail
and it shall
wound hail
to a snowy pale.
crystal sparkles
stale.