Hands in a romantic pocket
Fresh eyes that claim a number
Penny's and dirt, the thanks of selfish lockets
Taken from an embarrassed, quiet, to become humbler...

Fright of a lifetime
The roses and the smile in an alabaster cake
To reach for a nimble childhood, a curiosity trying
Of cares in callous circles, the problems we make...

Sovereign, the taste in a marveling cloak...
To rhyme and play in the rain, see me suggest a today
And a character of honor in its throe, too many pokes...?
To be a waiting house without a key, the intellect we may...

A home with a reckoning list, the thread of disdain
To tell a story in familiar language, the risen kinds?
And hopes all in a row, that collect the world for any
Who would serve the might, the tight way we require minds?

Tomorrow in an angry stare
Wealth and bastion, taken for another fool, to ends resolute
The best of wests and the couth, of a question left to arguably a care
Meant with so many more yesterdays, are we the left side of known good?