she's in shambles. The rusted dirt she can't spray off. The thoughts she holds deep in side. This she is shamefully mistaken for. The woman with a pretty face but no good intent that will over look every detail of living life it's self too see no further then her self in a shadow. Forgotten the offering warmth of  kindness. Only her own intent she follows with a close Eye. At a turning point see must not waver. She let's go. Sweet  release from inner torment a growing avalanche of tears and heat over come her . She is not a woman of envy, she's seen darkness

I'm adsorbing the thoughts that occupy my mind with ideas  that corrupt my actions. I am that sneaky snake hiding thoughts of un trust with shady actions. But is it truly me that thinks this up or is it you that directed me to plotting wicked ways. That make me dark & unattached. I have held no greater betrayals then being worrisome of your disfigures. To truly be awake, knowing the despairing ways of the past. I will go on knowing no other manners then my own. I will try to be gated my the people who Barry me in ideas of there own. Are these my thoughts deprived.

To the wondering,
As we all know I wonder,
I wonder of the wondering,
My light shines bright,
Bright upon a world of wonder,
A place that is the calmer,
As spit the sunny sander the places that I wonder.
And to know that I have a new beginning each day to wonder.
I wonder.