All of the fancy
they
could

every love.

As let as love
as nothing yet.

No secret kept.
No dream to service
as a bet.

No cold dream to forget.

They have desired to regret.

Love, as nothing
as everything
untold.

No rythm
to listen to
of an old drum.

Just drunken spirits
without the ***.  

Oh, these morbid
and fickle
les zen lei' bold.

They speak to french
kiss the dead undead
reading the poetry
of our life in dote.

They do not know
why New Orleans sells
spicy sea food.

Oh, the marrage proposal.

To many lovers
no children to hold.

The children leave
as Luke's dreams
of sky walking
to freedom lands.

They chide the child
and know no REN.  

Chide ren, as do children
know parenthesis.
Due trust is
to hold the
option of freedom.

The job
40 years,
demented posthumously.
The award of state hood
for mental posterity.  

Just chill and watch the sunset.

I just wrote the
"The better is left unsaid."

Ode to the frenchless
kiss,
I... will... knot... lie...
for the benefit.