My eyes Crack like dried paper,
onto the desk at 4 am,
I'm not sure if my maker,
is a lion or a lamb,
Stuck between the present,
and the task at hand,
life is rarely pleasant,
when you can see through the sham,
I open the window, ash seeps in,
I can never duck get win,
Friends, my patience is wearing thin,
I know there's places I've been,
Not in the linear fashion of thought,
but inside the sky of my minds eye,
past, present future,
everything that can't be bought
Thanks for the read
- Matt