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That the body is a man,
that I do not know.
The body, rearing, is a Titan;
sand, its simple subject.

A baby, dying, upon its birth?
Tis' truth, we're blind to see.
A baby tells you with its eyes:
a soul can only know.
An attempt to communicate that we cannot be the master of our bodies, but only our minds.
That animal who judges
wraps itself with weight,
who sees, blindly, its own versions
of that notion, fate.

If divinity had a plan,
t'would not be 'fore the flowers,
proceeded, wrecklessly, to 'pense
their friend, the baby worm.

What is there, then, to say,
that company should need?
Pray, perhaps, a happy rain,
or a day with which to wait?
  Sep 3 Sean Fitzpatrick
Hello you⁣
Yes you there⁣
There is no one else ⁣
Is there?⁣
I've been thinking,⁣
Among other things, ⁣
About us⁣

I've thought of you⁣
Many a time⁣
Reading these verses⁣
Selfish ramblings ⁣
Of a narcissistic mind⁣
I always wonder how you do it⁣

I imagine the trust you hold⁣
Mingling your own mental state⁣
With these lonely words⁣
Quite an intricate ball⁣
Maybe even a masked gala⁣
Filled with intimate connection⁣
Yet, still cautious in your approach ⁣

Nonetheless, I'm honored by it⁣
I treat this trust of yours⁣
With my own⁣
A movement between masked dancers⁣

I play with these steps ⁣
In each line I write⁣
Extending my hands towards you⁣
And, somehow, ⁣
You always take them⁣
At times, you've even taken that first step⁣
Extending your grasp⁣
To the only one at this gala ⁣
Standing alone ⁣

Hello you⁣
I hope you are well⁣
There is no one else⁣
Besides us, at least for now⁣
For in this moment,⁣
I hope you will join me again⁣
Clasping my open arms⁣
For one more dance⁣
Yet another reading⁣
Of my selfish ramblings
  Sep 3 Sean Fitzpatrick
I've slipped recently ⁣
Into moods most somber⁣
Caught within nostalgic embraces ⁣
Wrought in tinged smiles⁣
Ironic curved lips ⁣
Holding opposite meaning ⁣
Within the eyes behind

A wall has stood here ⁣
Preventing those outside⁣
From these haunted tinges⁣
A conscious barrier⁣
One I've felt necessary ⁣
Holding back those closest ⁣
Away, from it all⁣

Perhaps a selfish churning ⁣
One I have treaded alone ⁣
A hooded traveler ⁣
Traversing these harsh lands⁣
A necessary toll, however⁣
One I couldn't hold to another ⁣

They told me much, about the journey ⁣
Yet, never what happens after ⁣
Lifetimes enveloped into small moments⁣
Ones I keep replaying ⁣
Sitting on this familiar couch⁣
Hitting that recursive button ⁣

Perhaps I will find myself⁣
Catching my footing⁣
Among this treacherous *****⁣
Breaking down this refined wall⁣
Lifting my hood up⁣
To see, truly ⁣
Until then, I shall remain⁣
Involved in my selfish churning⁣
Pressing this replay button⁣
Wrought in my tinged smiles
Talk works best when certainty’s aside,
so the company’s address is wavered.
The message, therefor, a matter of formality,
and the meaning, made direct.

Such is the secret of telepathy,
of the mountain mouse’s cherade,
What would the owner of the Place
do sooner than trivialize?
I see change on the horizon
it happens every season
We don't need a reason
Switch to adapt within atmosphere
Shift your emotions for happiness
To live in honesty always tell the truth
     give your heart and soul to certainty
Listen for facts before you judge
in reality it's the only way
Always be your authentic self
     Live by these rules
Forgive others that can't
to live in honesty, be candor
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