When your standards are so high
That birds cannot perch
And construction workers, who work
Have the option of throwing themselves from above
Then perhaps it's time
To reconsider your own
And come down from the clouds
Lest someone ends up getting hurt

A wish is only a wish
When you have not the time -
Or the faculties
Or the will left alive
- to try

Be it again or for the first or for the eventual not

Will you try?

There is no time left in the sky today. All that remains is the darkness of eve which this growing day has left behind....

I view myself so sternly sometimes
As a tower standing tall above sands
Like a lighthouse alive on the shores of Lyme

When really I'm a swingset
Noone plays on much more

Bright in the sun perhaps
But no less weathered by time

Regardless, I am kind of tall

Presence is a funny thing -

How I am and not aware of me, my being once been and what'll always be.

As an idealist, present is never enough for me.

Be it a wish of is, my being once been and what'll always be.

Whenever I answer before it turns quarter to three. It's not me.

But at night I am the moon, my being once been and what'll always be.

- In full, you see. Every night I am free.