The expression you are as you say you are is not true if you actually are not as you say you are.

Hum...

Some days are the sun
Some days are the moon
And some days are the stars which burn out in-between

*shrug*

As snow descends unto the earth
With a calming, soothing, effortless ease

So you my friend should be like the snow
And settle the horizon beyond the trees

No snowflake was ever meant to last
Or to live to see the newborn leaves

For we are uniquely designed by God
As unique and beautiful as these

Not into special snowflakes. But everyone is uniquely designed. What we do to our selves after that is up to us. (:

Cold candy
Pop rocks bursting in the morning hail

My mouth a mess and mind untested
Tired and still

The morning reaches out to me
But nothing gets better at this time of day

I wish my words could carry me
Like I carry a them, away

Nothing feels worse.

Nobody dreams anymore when they sleep
How they wake to find
That their dreams of the day are not met
Will not meet
How long will this nightmare continue to be?
Like a daily life with eyes wide shut
Squeezing tightly until its extinguished from me

Of Dreams

The lack of the eternal
  Within my own eternity
    Has never bothered me
      Before this
        Before today
          I cannot am
            I cannot want
              I will not be

There's no turning back

Searching for the truest of words
The quest of me
Is a sermon for an audience of one
Or two perhaps?
Maybe

Just a little thing.... (;

Just know
It’s OK
If your heart’s a thousand colors
Because my eyes have a thousand of their own

Eh...

The mind seeks to be
To express its worth
In metaphor and homily

And yet no cloudy day remains alive
Within your mind

As memories grey and overcast
Like a visionary dream once passed

You are awake
And yet your eyes
Are only aware of this present take
On life lived alive

No voice is meant to learn such things
Or to recognize these passing clouds
Which have long since passed you by

No cloud is ever exactly as remembered within your mind

What truth do you find in this? (:

The great woods are
But a memory to me
Of a time when my words clung to the branches of trees
Before the fall
Great indeed for their inherent value
For their intrinsic worth
Were such words and such times to me

I need to walk that path again.
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