Where is the coin that doesn't fit the ruse?
Shall it be given to those with none?
Recluses are in joint gatherings to stumble upon an unknown truth.
There is a way to walk away, to get to the other side, leaving yourself behind.
In my feelings a deeper thought awakens a blue sky of sapphire and forgotten dreams.
I hope at least one other person gets something from what I write.
Hoping what I say makes some sort of sense.
Extremely vivid dying dreams, I hope to God I can see what it means.
We are surrounded by poetry on all sides, but putting it on paper is, alas,
not as readily done as looking at it.