Oh, how I have strayed away, old and gray, on the edge of my vision.
Seeping into my reptilian-brain, you are but the light everlasting.
Dear, sir, couldn’t you have recalled? The one with the pretty eyes of an ocean so blue; of the tirade of the torrent washing the wispiness of your face, in a gallant seascape.
Of the child who mourns for his dear mammy, crying on the floor. He is no more.
Generosity is quite the curiosity, that is, if you settle for mediocrity.
Heaven above! Almighty lord of our beings. Deign unto us the wisdom for a life of shining brilliance.

Perhaps, though, we have the answer already; in the hearts of our souls, the brain of our being, the epitome of our creation; what magic it is that stems the fire of spontaneity.
Lovestruck: dumbstruck more like it. You are but a haggard fool.
I have seen as the mocking bird has done wrongly. The world, upside down; growing in an acceptance of misfits. For they’re god’s creation as are you and I. Love them all I assuredly do, now, why don’t you?

Young, adolescent, children; immature with the years of their forced existence, tightened and controlled by those unseen. ‘tis the challenge. The solution? Perhaps undiscovered.
I have not seen the glory that is a tattered forearm. I have not seen the bane that has become falsified.
Oh, but surely do not forget, kind sir. You have pretty eyes.