she casts her pencil like a wand as magic soaks into the page her flannel cascades around her work, shielding it from curious eyes she tilts her head to listen to the lecture, but her heart is elsewhere running through castles and stumbling through candle lit streets colors tangle to mirror the expanse of her dreams she shares her soul with every meticulous stroke each face blessed by her style but never the same when she designs she never aims for perfection for she knows perfect is just a fancy way of saying flawed she erases and redraws as if her art could never satisfy her desires it can always be better but it is never good enough if only she knew I meant it when I told her I loved her drawing her art speaks to me like Mona Lisa never could

Online posts ,
Not the post office
Emails,
Not the post office
Courier services at our door step,
Drones with deliveries,
New applications called "Apps"
Even put santa clause out of business
Not the post office
Ordering online with payments online
Paper trailing the postmaster office
With no cash injection
Why stand in line when you can checkout
Video calls and skype
Not one for the hype, office of the post
People are working from home,
Still battling with retrenchment and unemployment
Surviving debt-review and business-rescue and budget-cuts
This life also needs adjustments to adaptation,
Post occurances to befit currents
Like cold war office, post world war

Mean what you say,
What is said should be meant at the least
At most be truthful
So you dont feel minimal when saying it
But maximal
Without being mean
Yet meaningful
Even if thy saying be bitter ,
Thy taste of feeling shall be sweet

With confusion
As to why blood hates blood
Is it not suppose to be thicker than water
Istead of flowing like water to the drain
Those genetics
Water down the drain
Memories
Water under the bridge
Bridges between planets
Is heaven another planet
Heaven's will does not seem to be done on earth
What kind of heritage does that culture

Comp.***.
Computing.***.
Computing assistant
Like "smart-***"
Quickly turned into a mockery for the man onboard
Onboard the computing assistant's importance
During voyage
Importance is of the destination
Not the distance, thats just a drastic measure
Longitude and latitude
The rest is up and down to nature
In the vast see of nothingness
Where everything began
Manifestation of hope
In anticipation
Trust in a route unknown
To achieve the wealth of the land
New tools for guidance are devised
Even for my own instinct
And knowledge turns to theory of doubt
Wisdom left dumbstruck
Envisioned in the beginning
And everything with manifestation ends
Inbetween reality
Theres no time to rest even in favourable winds
Until the destination is reached and goods undocked
Unloaded , unpacked
Be my own compass while i row
To get my ducks on a row
Not a sitting duck on the bank of the dock
Go below deck
And play the cards in my deck
Destiny has to be dealt with a straight face
My sleeves are drawn
Veins pumping to and fro the heart
For the migration season
Atleast a messenger-pigeon
Watchout for the eagle,
Birds of prey like the vultures