Carret.
So profound.
Makes me want to,
Lick the ground.
Carret.
Is a color.
That can't rhyme,
With another.
Carret.
So sour.
I have,
CARRET POWR,
When I use my powr,
I fly,
And what I leave behind is,
CARRET.

moths play tag with the porch light
creating a soft jazz shuffle
unbeknownst to them
it is their  60 watt opus

as the fine brown dust
glitters down....and they lose
the rhythm, a dying of the, by the, light

in the harsh morning light
the small pile of carcasses
tattered and folorn
remind us...all dreams
have costs attached...

Once an angel,
Searching answers,ran.
And on surface of knowledge,
She found a swan.

Oh ye bard,
What do ye write?
Beyond your vision,
Or the words of thy sight.

Neither do I know,
Nor does my palm.
I write of my heart's,
And it becomes a pslam.

Oh ye Bard,
So why do you write?
To live like the ocean,
Or to fly like a kite.

I want not to drown,
And I want not to fall.
But for the pillars of mind,
Be strengthened and tall.

Oh ye bard,
For who do ye write?
Helen the charm,
Or Hercules the might.

I write for the one,
Who knows not him.
Who lost his path,
And lives now in grim.

You answered me so true,
So I bless you my word.
From the names in epics,
Thy name never get discard.

"He'll never like you,
nor, love ya."

The reality has slapped me hard.
So hard.
But I must go on,
I must sail my ship to another harbour,
And leave, the old one.

He's such a saint, and I'm a sinner.

"We shouldn't love, we're different."

Like a ****** hand that holds thorny roses so tight,
I let him go.

I let him go, like I let my blood dries up, after I throw the thorny roses, away.

We aren't mimi lan mintuno.


;


I was never his mimi,
And he was never my mintuno.