I stroked your little ego
    'til your head literally exploded

the birds seem to effortlessly
it took all of time for them to

to create a poem
hurt is involved in the crafting
it took  all of time for it to

evolve into
art , you know all, the
great things of this life contrasted

stark nakedly
on the background of
gesso and Titanium

covering up the
red blood and suffering
of all the DNA

that made us specially
so evolved yet, not
nearly enough.

there were endless baubled
      babbles in her head,
yet, she spoke nary a word,
scribbled 'pon careful avenues
    neath cautious sky cover,
her notions were
   silver lined intended
      amidst dandelion wishes,
but the waylaid winds
  always whisked them away
    as insignificant gray clouds
         unquestionably appeared
     beyond shadow's fair conditions,
   whilst torrents smeared
       a reigning scrawled disarray,
  deluging what was left of
          her frozen sunrise passages