Trying to make something nifty
Life is simply
Too much at times to be handled gently
To catch the muse
And lose the sight of inspiration
Alas the same story
That we've lost before
To gain back in full stride
And then lost some more
The labored hearts' a chore
That the brain employ
Some where over the colors of the rainbow not seen by vibrant eyes
Or no eyes at all
we can sing some more in the silence the beckons the ominous feeling of living like a human being without knowing the actually meaning

The dreaded purple ice cream cone