I yearned the taste in my cavity
But found like a forgotten
Repeating
               Television
                                Show,
I remembered why I didn't want it
Within me. I hated repeats and
It left a lacking aftertaste an afterimage
Within me that wasn't wanted or needed.

I feel life in my hands and
sickens me, I feel my hands
tighten as to grip this life
to squeeze it out to bleed
it out.

I cant bare to look to see this
life I want to end it but I cant
do it, i must live with myself
weak.

To weak to end my self, to end
this torment, this life that flows
through me. I look at my self it
sickens me but for now life with
still beat within me.

A withered carcass entombed
within my being,
An essence of what has succumb
beneath those placid waters
as I'm departed.

Your hands linger,
but are never grasped upon.

I'm obscured from all, and breaches
                whisper words in silence...

I have looked in the reflection of self, so many versions
I have seen reflected upon this tapestry of illusions.

I have never seen the self that is portrayed on this portrait,
I have lingered in the brushstrokes that are eloquently hidden.

I have been damaged like a crack that is never seen within,
I have tried to be strong but I'm lingering in a false reflection.

I crave the flesh to
see the light fade, to
look in to your eyes
to see the life once
there was life to turn
cold before my eyes.

I want power where there
is non, to consume you,
with the Fear of your
demise.

I have power to take, to
give life, I wish to control
not only you but the flickering
moment that is life.

I have no wish to do you
harm, I only wish to see that
spark to leave never be reignited
in your now soulless eyes.

I have no paper but
my mind is like sand.

Where other thoughts
erode the original with
graffiti of useless anythings

I have no paper but i'll
hang on to this piece till
my mind doodles over it again.

They crawl like centipedes in my thoughts
So many feet crawl inside as each step is
Falling like tears on my reflection so do
Words echo not of my own conscience.

Words repeat, heeding their twisted wanting's
Never gathered upon my shores. But waves
Realise eagerly on my shores eroding my
Minds cliffs falling into unclear thoughts.

Confused vision of a sight now seen, not through
The perception of one but many that are witnessed
On the feeling that is entwined  in many confused
And different thoughts. My voice needs to be heard.

I am one in the pool of many but I must swim alone
In a sea of sharks. Each wishing to take a bite, but
Never getting close enough. I went fishing caught
All that were there, now they swim in a tank in solitude.


They call to me, but I never feed them in .confined waters
They now swim And my subconscious is free of whispers
That flooded my thoughts. I heard many voice echoing
Within, but now they are echoes shadows disappearing.

**"My thoughts are echoes of me, but sometime I fear their not,

As I wrote this footsteps upon the footsteps
fell, I ushered words to my little ones that
it was past the ruination of dreams if there
heads had not headed the times of slumber
as night is for sleep not running around.

But footsteps inevitably fell once again.
Anger feel upon a fathers brow as words now
ignored where sleeping head should have fell.
With tired eyes and the voice, you know the
one that tell those of younger age daddy means
business. And then there was silence once again.

But eyes whispered unto the realms of dream
to be once again woken by footsteps playing
upon the stairs waking others namely me from
my needed dreams. I glanced upon the stairs to see.

Without a murmur I glanced in rooms, and unattended
my first born where they were in slumber so silent I
could only just hear the faint whispers of breath as they
did sleep. then in darkness the footsteps louder than believed.

I awoke in the morning on the top of the stairs, a bruised
rendition of a child's footprint upon my skin bruised
and hollow. My daughter said in a mulled voice that
the child didn't like you watching it in darkness run.

I write this as a father who now has shivers as I write
this piece that the footsteps are within my room,
My wife sleeps my children do, but the footsteps don't
seem so innocent now, and I am not going to look behind me

I hear her its like a rumble under foot,
I put my ear to the ground and I hear
her, I hear her scream,.

She whispers in my ear as to the ground I
listen, they are draining me, penetrating
my flesh for there greed.

She sheds tears as her emotions once frozen,
the destruction she feels brings the melting of
her tears, so many that her waters rise climbing the
shores so others feel her fear.

Even those are now being poisoned,  her water
once pure now everything is put in no respect to
the living they hold within.

That which grows upon me my beauty smeared.
If respect is not given by those that she lets live,
then she will wipe the slate clean. Because she is
always in pain, I know this because I can hear
her scream.

I'm a silently panicked individual,
on the outside  I'm calmer than
    the ocean on a windless tide.

But underneath I'm like a riptide of
trepidation,
             I wonder different scenarios.

What if's,
                when will I,
              why the hell are they
                                    not 6 feet away.

In my view, a cotton cloth isn't going
to stop anything, if a **** can get through,
                boxers, and Demin trousers.


How's a thin cloth going to stop it,
              P.s the rest of your face neck
hair is open for business.


Its absorbed, every breath, touch
cough, that travels much, much
further than you think.

With your vinyl gloves that spread more
than you realise..
             But what ever makes
                          you comfortable.. that's ok!!!

                             But don't touch anything
I want to pick up with your filthy hands.
Id rather trust unwashed digits to those
blue, white, finger puppets of falsehood.

I read the news, so many who help us,
          those in need thank goodness I'm
not one, not yet..
But they help the poorly,
                            the dying..
  I hate that word
                            DYING..
loneliness,
             of family unable morn you,
             to smile and wish you good journey.

You, we, them just die without a smile.
               a We Love You.
No they just gasp looking for comfort,
      but all they see is others gasping for
           just another day...

                      Flatline...…………………………………….

Tie me up with lies,
        gag me with half trues..

Handcuff me to your heart,
                      swallowing the key..

But no I can escape you


                                   at any time.



But I like to see you struggle, to keep
                                    me under check.

Who is the prisoner,


                                               "I know its not me,

I lay breadcrumbs of my emotions
for you to follow. Each was nourished
with essence that enticed your heart onward.

I lay breadcrumbs of my thoughts
for you to listen too. Each sustained
with true meaning of delicate spoken words.

I lay breadcrumbs so many times,
some got lost along the way, others
never interested stale crumbs then faded away.

I lay breadcrumbs, but I started to follow
yours, and with each morsel grazed upon
I found the door to your heart & love had won.

"A breadcrumb trail to a hearts beating path,
*"Who's trail will you follow today,

I like my beans,
             maybe a bit hotter than
others..

Mine with jalapeno peppers,
           scattered like snow..
melting it on the taste buds
              oh so delicately...

Then a layer of cheese,
  like soft footprints..
    never touched.


Before my mouth consumes it,
                  What was whole now

          chunks missing..

like a where's wally of the food
                                             variety..

I'll tell you where in my belly..

Beans, beans they'll make you full,
         on what ever you want.

but for me it the saucy kind,
         cos that's where my beany


                                       boat floats.. saucy

I had two hours of that wonderful stuff left,
"one hundred and twenty minutes,
seven thousand two hundred seconds
7199 seconds
.
.
.
.
I did this for around five mintues while I span
in a chaotic orbit of myself. Its amazing how
air burns as it hits nothingness like a cornered
beast knowing its time was about to end.

I couldn't believe that this was my final frontier,
corny I know, always wanted to say that.
I was pebble dashed by the exposed features
of god only knows. But unfortunately for them
decompression had expelled them.

I played with the voice command as it counted the
moments to my demise [French] 99 minutes quatre
vingt dix neuf minutes [Russian] 98 minutes
Девяносто восемь минут and so on till I got to
English, not American English what is that English??
And in a condescending voice I mutted as it continued
its saying, 89 minutes your so fu#ked, in 88 minutes
You going to be ******* vacuum, and not like a Dyson.

I giggled as images of what not to do with appliances
wondered in my thoughts. I stared on as she lay there
limp like a sack of potatoes. The flames now devoured
by the emptiness I was swimming within. Bodies in
frozen static forms wondered past me, like walking
down a street not looking at who was only steps away
oblivious to there features, not wanting to stare.

Can you whistle in a space suit? I never tried till now,
well you can, but my ears were ringing and then I
reminisced of that moment my door rang. That
day that changed everything, and here I am now
******* air like its going out of fashion.
"Live the adventure, see new stars explore the unseen,

Well we saw the planet but not the rings, peppered us
like buck shot. Not lingering like a tome of lost souls,
if this wasn't real I'd have thought it was a corny Sci-fi
movie but this is more realistic than I wanted it to be.

Then I heard that voice, no god dam way, out of all
the people to survive it had to be him, I shook my
head in disbelief. I turned on the speaker system,
"Paul where are you, "coming in fast, I swam in a
drowning manner only to have his crutch land
on my visor. "Are you for ****** real Paul, really,

I got him off my face and he was just mumbling,
dude shut up and chill, "Were going to die,
"No **** Sherlock, did i just speak that out loud.
Why couldn't it have been Lexy that survived
least I'd have died with a smile on my face.

Corny chat up lines lingered in my thoughts
"Hi Lexy do you come here often,
"Wanna walk the spaceman,

But Paul brought me back shaking me in fear,
I punched his visor like a jibber jabber his head
bounced around, god that felt so good.
Then he started crying, what the......
So i momentarily un fastened his visor. Before a
word was expelled he was a popsicle and silence.

I didn't **** him he was already dead, he just didn't
realize it. I  attached his air cord to mine, replenished
what was lost then kicked his **** to the galactic curb.
I played with this extra life how my expelling it and
flying around in playful bliss till that dam voice echoed
through my visor. "two minutes remaining,

Well play time was over what was it to be? cry like
a baby as i clung to the last gasps of air or just open
my visor and take in a mouthful or dark matter?
decisions, decisions...................................

Well here I am, milestones had passed
yet not a granite one had levelled my
field of recognition. When I was just
moments into digits doubled, a mind
was vacant of contentment.

Was I motionless yet progressing to
nowhere, my emotions were alike to
a  cadaver rotting me on the inside.
Putrid anxiety chained with solitude,
voices of others, shadows clinging inwards.

A tomb of negativity had obscured my
needing of others. I was deaf in a room
of many whispers, mine screaming out
the loudest in need to be heard.
I was a ventriloquist scattering my voice away.

But even though in contained emotions,
I woefully expelled my moments on tiny
little pebbles, swallowing them to drown
out the living cradle of my imprisonment.
And I slept like death for an eternity.

Awoken by the morning verses of birds
rising to a new day, for me two had past.
A lifetime of slumber and I pondered my
reflection in the glass, twice was not the
charm, and pebbles dissolved into regrets.

Lingering in the empty shell of what drowned
within me. I looked in the mirror and saw
something strange? Myself, and I looked rough.
I took the blade to flesh and removed the
memory of the last static months stained on me.

Well that was vacant times and now my life is
fulfilled with the motions of love compassion,
A wife and children that expel any darkness
lingering beneath. And I smile, my granite footnote
is a while a way, today i just smile out the window..

She never cared what I pulled up in,
                we ad a date, 911..
on the side of our ride.

We were late blue lights
             shining bright like her eyes.

Getting  there on time, left the blue
    shining after we left,.
      Temporarily leaving the cam on..


Smile ******* this is us,
                  eyes and a  camo only seen :)

               But underneath
we smiling,
                        catch us if you can,


prints wiped..

                   Were not a bonny & clide,
The new generation,
tip-toing on the lines that blur
                                    
                                            with everyday.

I don't have a car but I'll pick you up,
            it doesn't  matter if your down,

I'll always pick you up.

            Turning that frown from


a negative to a flashing,
            whoops we have to ditch

                     before were arrested lol.

I never gave up the stars,
         hiding within your eyes...

And you shone more than anyone...

Guiding me from every nightfall
                    to the  breaching of
illumination scaring the land..

You are my falling star,
    Who I'll catch every time.

I collect crayons,
              that I coloured eyes upon.
All where closed but I painted them
                                 open...
Death can only have you when you
    shut those lids of sight  open to life.
But when there vacant it comes instead.

I coloured there lids that were
                                  closed tightly shut,
Why should I give it the fulfilment
                    when I have so much fun left.


I use blue, green & brown,
such pretty colours, I use hues of both.
       Remember eyes are mirages
                       of not one but three.
But I don't want it to take you,
                      that treats for me.
I colour you in, ill open your eyes.


But death will never have you,
          as only I can colour in your eyes.
Only I can paint those baubles of the soul,
          only I can colour in what's left behind.
l'll colour you in, ill keep your eyes open wide.
         even though your gone
                   ill keep your memory vividly alive.

I am here even though I should
not, I watch what happens around
and it sickens me the thought of a
society of one people but treated as not.

I see in there eyes the fear of being
caught the chance of a better life from
where they lived, where for reasons
they didnt, i do not know what.

Is this what I am expecting to see,
for if i made myself known, would
i fear those because I am not from
around here. That I look different
to you, who would be feared, you
to me or me to those that see with
only eyes closed shut, instead of
seeing the real me.

I have seen what I needed, this is not the
place for me. I will take my leave maybe
when this culture has grow to respect
difference, to embrace things that they
dont usually see, then back to this planet
I may come for I am an illegal lien and
you are not ready me.

I'm a pathological
                        liar..

prove me wrong..

Over the rainbow my wishes were bloated in the
remains of gold coins now turning jaded.

False hopes of aspirations now just dehydrated
thoughts, echoes of rainbows reflections bleached.

Where the colour I followed I was lingering in
the falsehood of them contending with my problems.

Even shooting stars fell to earth, they wished to stay
afloat above but lay cold static decaying.

I'll never chase rainbows again, ill just linger in
the rain, washing away my tears hidden from you.

How fragile must the skin of those that
                      need to feel that they are owed
                                  something from nothing.


Are owed or are grateful for waking up.  
                    Yet not taking on the fragility of life,
                    that others though they held
                there hands up high
were now silent beneath the gaze
  of tearful eyes asking
                                   why, why, why...

Thanking something that wasn't apart
               of that moment but more
             every action has a reaction.

We must realise that life is a random consequence
                                                               of our actions.

And no rabbits foot,
              or palms crushed together till numb.

Will change the fact that the world is a random,
                               chaotic path..

If wake up its because we were lucky,
                  because were all going to take
that wrong step sometime...

And no hands held high
                  or silent words will ever change that.

Someone said I was a seed that
                         would grow deep.
But you pulled me before I had


the chance to grow between the
                      fallen brothers that
                             were taller.

But you quarantined me in this
                            this place.

Potted, you told me that I'd grow
                   further than the family

I'd left behind.


   It was a moment
                of concern that I'd never

reach the lengths of my brothers
         and sisters. yet you put me
   higher than they'd ever reach...  

They fell beneath me,
  

                   But no ,matter who falls


were the same branch and we will
                                      always reach further

than my silence as we'll always be



                            reaching further than

than the hate that tries to keep us

       lower than the furthest branch
that we can grow  from the desert of your
            infertile earth.

I ain't got no signal,
              to tell your boys that

your shallow, shallow graved

beyond that your silent and I
                    throw gravel of silent
words over your face.

what that's all your worth.

I ain't got no signal to #hashtag
            you been died
                      after I shot you full

of body shots of verbal body shocks..



I never got your followers on my phone cos
            flakiness doesn't get followed but
                                 just shallow graved.

I poured water over you, cos a cap isn't worth
   finishing you off,

                     na my words collateral damage

on your form your slumped
                    blooded but no blood falling.

You need to realise you haven't got a shoot off,
            and your riddled with insecurities that
    

                  you and yours will have to either
   be buried in shallow graves or respect my
                                                            word around town.

Your like, look at the bloke with no legs,
      I be like,  I can run faster than you mouth.

Yes I many be stumpy and do these shorts
      look big on me, but I'll never be shorter
than your short mindedness.

Running your gob like your mouth,
                                                   matches your shoesize.

Dam why would you even admit that..
  well I haven't got height but boy I have length

not like you...

Do you shop at baby gap for then tiny toes,

I'll always be higher than those belittling
                                                      ­                others.
for there short term gratitude.


My strength isn't vertical,
its that I can stand taller
              than all the misgivings that others
stigma me with.

Before they realise the truth,
that  is I can see a lot
             more truth than you can,
the taller they are the more noise

                               they make when they fall.

Incandescent hues flutter around me,
          as nightfall's beauty graces
my  every sight.

This silhouette, a partner of illumination,
          still feeling the days touch even
                   though set beneath eventide.

Looking up the moonlight bathes
           my thoughts,

                                     and I'm at peace.

I wish every day was a Friday,
that seven-day repetition that
        I no your walking through
my door, no looking back...

Were here all night a 2.5 fraction
of a week where theres just me
             and you, just us....

Runing a 4.5 day missing you
    to a weekend of just us
through the minutes to hours
            to the where did this
                                    weekend go.

The alram sounds, then the race
             to the end of the weekned
starts,finishing as we count mistakes
     of days that we catch on to a friday.

Your here now, were sorry I missed you,
              but the weekend is ours..
  no leaving, were just us, me and you.

            I've missed more than just your body,
           missing your breath on me,
                but now were here in this moment,

long live every weekend when your next to me.

It was a tapestry of white tusk ivory, tints of red smoothed
through it, like veins of death still lingering from the life
that was ruptured from its being.

the shimmer in this lake of reflection was almost as if one
was gazing at oneself not an impression, or  a blank slate,
but as if out of body looking inward.

Mesmerized by the opposite I look upon, tempted to touch
upon my own symmetry I linger towards but I grasp upon
frame and even though smooth contours my palm bled
lingering on the composition of its purity I watched.

Wiping on the smear now non corporeal, it seeps downwards
fading into the ivory not so pure as before. Now more crimson
than what I had glanced on when our eyes first became static on
this river of flowing imagery that now seemed more distorted.

I would sit there just talking to myself or my other half a
representation, a residue of what I see myself as within.
But each day I would grace its elegance with my palm,
what was pure now inflamed with my essence and it drank.

Speaking to me urging just another palm to settle its hunger,
I was listening to myself telling me it was ok. So weak barely
my eyes can see the image of myself. Moving towards me, I
must be vague in what I am sensing as it holds me closer still.

Awoken I am in the dark, I speak but hear only repercussions
of how far my voice lingers around me. Seeing a glimmer I
tread carefully towards this flicker to find its the mirror
and I'm within its grasp. The ivory now purest white once again.

"Why would you do this to me, a voice answers out of the
abyss "to be released from where I once was to this reflection
of where you were then, Tears fell into oblivion, as she walked
away and then the hunger started once again.

I look upon a web that hangs gently
Before me, I look deep within the beads
Of morning dew, I see reflections
Of each part of me.

Each strand was a part of me, I
Was woven of many pieces, Some
Held many dews of water,
While others vacant, the thread
Is clean no dew no spiders
Motion nothing hangs there.

But others a collection of movements,
Dew coalesces there,  where  would
I spin a new thought, what part of
Me is hanging in anticipation, new
Thoughts to be caught and fed upon.

I wondered upon a Web, I looked in
To its intricate design, I saw many parts
Of myself within this elegant creation,
Thoughts were the dew coalescing
Upon silken line, I was empty in
Parts waiting to be filled.

I looked and smiled, touched silk with
The tip of my fingers, vibrations fed
Through like thought, and with that
I walked, I wondered silently on.

Today I secured
a heart in love,
    but lost
                 loneliness.

I'll never try to find it now its gone.....

I'm asphyxiating within your words,
a collage of silhouettes that are weak in form.
For when tears bleach their meaning all that
is seen is the transparently of your fragility.

But linages of secluded rooms that collect
all the poisons of my verses, everyone a
torment that outlines the concussions of
what my mind collects in a penny jar.

If I dropped every essence of you within
an outline of ripples, could you breath in
the shores of my anger, as I lay you silently
on the embankment of shadows of loneliness.

My mind is full of static, like a motion of
Black & white snow descending on my
Reflections that are now being secluded
From the other.

Contours of barely visible echoes shudder beneath
The enveloping suffocation that is my own worst
Enemy. Blaming those secluded for the emptiness
Decaying underneath the sheath of nothingness.

I want to see the colour of red and white bleed from
My visual cortex, claiming them as slaves of my
Celled prison that I'm concentrated within.
Bone is stronger than reflections as I just stare within myself

My words, what can I say they came in
your mouth, you swallowed every syllable
every verse. You even wiped all the lost words
that were deleted from that moment absorbed
into your lips but not even versed.

Abused on my thoughts, you still took every
words deep in your throat, gagging on what I
versed, but even though you asked me not
to verse what I said in your mind I still spill
all this vocabulary and you swallow every drop.

Constrained on what I ejected from my self,
you cry for what I made you swallow in this
time of expulsion, you didn't have time to
wipe what I versed it dribbled from your mouth
a word a syllable all was swallowed, now silence.

Grieving at the gravity that pertains my
Open mind, reality is messy but I except
Driving in a single lane...
                 I'm a singular life time of experience


And when I leave this undertone of reality
            I know that this is singular

in existence.........

Regressive are the faded receipts of
what I handed to myself...

They owe me an emotional coin flip,
Heads I'm
                  lingering in happy reflections..

Tales I'm just imaginary,
                                           And I'm fading...

"I'm a father, and I don't do a few things.

A father doesn't babysit his kids,
            what are you part time?
Wake up, if your thinking this,
your not father material
                    your a ***** bank for hire.

I don't get drunk in-front of my kids,
                     you slurring your words.
Anger making you lash out.
           That's a problem,  you see
       love is kindness, not anger and grief.

"I'm a father and I do a few things right.

A father reads to his kids, imagination
            ignited in little minds.
    
"ROAR" went the dino baby as
    it showed mummy and daddy
its new voice that it found.
   Trees trembled and the earth
             did jump for this little dino
showed off the voice
                          "ROAR" it never knew it had.


A father looks after them when there sick.
                           Team mummy and daddy.

Snooty Maggie,
                    that's mummies section.
Green little monsters popping out of noses,
slim trails on white tissues, so gross.
                           Buggers make daddy heave.

Pukky Pedro,
now this is daddies area.
         scrap the chunks,  
         clean the sheets, give them a shower.
Now get the bucket, that rests next to the
                                                 little ones bed.
Sleep my baby, mummy and daddy are close.

A father is meant to show love,
                                    don't be a part timer.
Were meant to be proud of what we have or had
with the love of our life.
                        We created someone,
who will bring a smile to eithers face just with a look.

I sit quietly next to the window,
          only opening it ever so slightly ajar..
My bones they feel the whispers
of age clinging to them.

Have you just listened to the
           outside world?
So much happening yet
never is it really heard in silence.

I exhale memories with each breath
                        seeing that which is now past...
If I could capture everyone to give
me that little bit longer, a net into reflections.

Hearing the footsteps, I  gaze wearily
                      they are false hopes walking by...
I was once as you are now, I had a good life.
But know I'm just so lonely, fading into a background.

I turn and listen to the life that is so vibrant
                      but I'm a forgotten picture frame...
I'm still alive so why did they just leave me here
deceased but alive, I'm a memory that's fading inside.

Imaginings influenced
       by cords of a harmony
we hang our emotions over.

Symbolism of ever melody
           breaths on our reflections
of the days musing

Let the winds claim your thoughts,
reflecting on the imaginative echoes
that flow from the breeze of the mind.

Knowledge is the pebble forever bouncing
on the waters of imagination, every ripple
splashing more on every thought.

I'm a glutton for words
      I consume too many that
they expel in unformed phrases
      out of my mouth.

I'm told I look  obese in the explanation
      of what I ingest into the pit of
my mind. What can one say when my
sight likes the configuration of illustration.

I'm that what is consumed and regurgitated
      some may not be in liking of the figure
of what is rehearsed and expelled.
     but I like who I am and these are my words.

I am vacant of gravity, I wonder the furrows of
life's breath. Always descending to my eventual
ending but captured in free falling sorrow.

But I linger between now and the moments that
captures me before I'm a singular line, not beating
only unattached  from this place and every other.

"I'm always declining,

*"But never reaching stability  to settle upon.

I took up gardening
during the quarantine..

  I made a lovely death bed
                I mean rose bed...


My husband hasn't been back
             in a while?

O' well

             I mean, 999 I haven't seen
my husband since I sent him out
           for milk..

He was coughing a lot but
                      I'm in quarantine.

So I couldn't go to find him,
                                 I'm killing him,
sorry I'm missing him.

Blue lights flashing,
            the boys in blue..

"Would you like a coffee,

"Yes, thanks love,

As we sat across from the roses,
      I asked,    "You ok,

"Ye, I just think these things look
               nice but smell like death,

As they leave I give them homemade cookies,
                special ingredient

homemade LSD..

Just encase they had any thoughts that I
         was the killer.

Rest in Peace hubby, I'm always right....

I live for a world without,
                            dependency
on imaginary friends..

Because at the moment,


Twelve Thousand gods fight
        for ******* of your will...


To be hateful and **** for them...

I used to believe in the tooth fairy,
             and Santa...


But the reality is some mother *******
                grow the **** up.....


I read fairy tales but I don't,
                     ****, hate..
Morality of fallen morals
      in imaginary words..

People need to recognise,
      that every story is just
a third hand view..

Rewrote from the reflections of
           that time.

But some are sheep and some
      are wolves...

But the wolves never feed,
they
    just try to prune the wool
over others eyes to let them howl
                                     at the moon..