Mama should I trust the Government?
Men in charge,
With suits and ties.
Mama, do they know whats best?
or are they selling
pre-packed lies.
Mama should i get a job?
sell my soul
to the money train.
Mama is it true in fact?
man can't live
of soil and rain?
Mama why do i feel sad?
kept cramped within
the city walls.
Mama how do i go on?
When all arounds me
crumbles, falls.

On the curvy shoulder of my (i want to say, girl but
know that offends her) presently both of us red-eyed
looking so un-real on this back-assed country
road with only shoes for transporting
a long way from being home
smiling all the while
hitting it again
smoke arounds her green red eyes slitted
baby, I cry, as we  walk again,
Are you  my girl?
She keeps walking.

I don't care to talk about the problems that surround me
Rather watch 'em make a boulder split right down the middle
Crushing my entire future, to have aspirations bend
Bottle up what I feel, to hope everyone arounds me feels alright
Well, I don't feel alright, but I'm not going to complain
Keep moving forward, in hopes I made someone's day okay
This is all temporary, I hope
Because it's 5 PM, and my eyes are tired, my body is shaking
I fought the longest battle, and I'm ready to lose,
But I refuse to surrender

Love
Is like a rollercoaster
Spotlight shines hot like a toaster
Ups and Downs
Overs and Arounds
Heartbreaks and Heartaches
You always find a way through your mistakes

.you should really see the two comments left, and the 700+ views to begin with.

mind you, i did write an ode to the gods
(yes, that infantile pleasure,
not associated with cosmopolitan new york
atheists)...
how the roman plagiarißm of the the greek
pantheon happened too soon,
how the semite god ate up ba'al
and beelzebub "too quickly"
   turning them into fallen angels...
      like how he infiltrated the roman empire
due to their close-up plagiarißm so early...
father Zeus, father Odin remained...
as did their phonetic encoding...
as did the glagolitic script turned cyrillic...
sorry... where was the african phonetic
encoding? beside the hieroglyphs?
  what's swahili for:
red earth, gave birth to me?
   nyekundu dunia, alitoa kuzaliwa kwa mimi!
see... that's african speech:
but what are the letters behind it?
last time i checked... there aren't any!
and i came from africa?
maybe the anglo-deutsche did...
i didn't... i source my origins
in india... after all... indo-european
is my higher category, the mongols...
i don't care if the germanic people "think"
they originated in africa, i've come from india...
people who minded phonetic encoding,
had an alphabet,
              i'm still stuck with germanic
people with african stereotypes not being
able to swim...
   heavy bones they say...
    **** that and the whole i.q. "conundrum"...
i still watch t.v.,
       after all, after prometheus
brought down the flame from olympus...
some demigod had to bring down /
steal the rod of zeus / electricity...
and turn the t.v. into the modern fireplace...
the b.b.c. had this 2nd season running,
killing eve...
             sandra oh and jodie comer...
there's this instance in season two,
when jodie comer, villanelle...
  is interrogated by aaron peel...
                and "kind" aaron is asking villanelle
all this philosophical quips...
anselm's ontological argument...
    occam's razor (i wish)...
            he has so many books on his
bookshelf...
   yeah... books you look at like comic
book strips, books you don't actually read...
books you look at...
            and what does villanelle do in the end?
she brushes aaron's nose with one of
these books "he's read"... what is it?
ha ha!   a dictionary of philosophy...
a... dictionary...
basically short-script...
                     cheat...
         you really want a dictionary
definition of philosophy? a philosophy dictionary
definition, a sound-bite?
you know... last time i checked...
i read bertnard russell,
kierkegaard, kant, heidegger...
not for a dictionary definition...
or regurgitating rubrics akin to
a university lecturer...
        i hate regurgitation...
                i read for myself,
  in the end, hoping, my narrative could
find expansive ground for work-arounds...
i don't like playing the happy
harpsicord dancing monkey...
    to give "proofs"...
              i don't like people,
akin to villanelle, when questioned
on a university entrance critique...
               like i might "know my ****",
or not "know my ****"...
                                       pretty boring...
i am starting to resound in the conviction...
there's no point in knowing other people,
there's only one person worth knowing,
yourself...
       mind you, i'm still waiting for the alternative
phonetic encoding system to come
from africa, as an alternative counter
to the egyptian hieroglyphs...
i'm not seeing it...

   tender skin: the moon does see...
     zabuni ngozi: ya mwezi haina tazama...

eh, chinese script is all syllables and no
letters...
        glagolitic - Ⰿ
        rune - ᛗ
        roman - M
        greek - μ
        hebrai - מ
        devanagari - म
        arabic - م
        hieroglyph - owl
        mandarin - 冊
        hiragana - ま(a) み(i) む(u) め(e) も(o)

didn't i mention this already,
interchangeable, between a letter and
a syllable... given the hiragana example...
depending on what vowel
you attach to the base sound (consonant),
the vowel modifies the base (consonant)...
five ******* variations of the consonant / syllable...

           ergo? no atomic reality in these languages...
syllable understanding...
the mendeleev table...
                He: helium...
             Xn: xenon...
                          Na: sodium... etc.,

            depends...
   after all... a base letter (consonant) in hiragana
looks like the following schematic:
i.e. no one really knows what M looks like,
like mmm-humming...
without an added vowel...

                                     ま(a)
                                      |
                   め(e) ----- "x" ----- む(u)      
                                   /    \
                                 /        \
                          み(i)          も(o)
                                                            
.Nietzsche was wrong about dialectics, he suggested that the non practice of dialectics, even the anti presupposes a polite society, he invoked that comparative tenet of a society in saying: a polite society does not engage in dialectics (finding the truth of opinions).

which is akin to the slander against Voltaire,
that not engaging in dialectics
one has a chance to have an opinion about almost
everything, there's no chance these days
to have a polite society as there is no chance
to establish a Utopia... the way dialectics is
avoided like some surreal horror movie
is to have many opinions, to not engage in
dialectics is to be opinionated, hence Nietzsche's
style of utilising aphorisms and as many
maxims as possible, without useful applicability;
it's like that metaphor for a venomous bite,
the carousel of the many many thoughts,
likewise, no truth are established, since many
truths are proposed - hence the paradoxical
venture into nothing, simply walking in circles
on plateau nihil, it's polite, well of course it's
politeness! politeness by having many opinions
readied for a quick change of subject or
the simple act of shame and shutting up.
all this? with regards to a woman writing about
her abortion: we, the great reverse-amphibians,
so she's writing about it... 4 weeks in she's ready
to erase the dot... they tell her to come back 12
weeks later (sadists... why not remove the dot
rather than wait for the geometry to construct itself?),
again... why not remove the dot and the abstract?
she mentions a dot... remove the ******* dot!
the tadpole outside the gooey yoke is fastened
to maturing in the fresh water stream or lake,
i can hardly be a human being inside the ******
if my **** and bladder muscles are not matured,
i'm an abstract in that sense, tadpoles ahoy!
now see how living in a "polite" society i can't
engage in dialectics but have to reverse the process
of discussion and engage in picturesque comparatives
using toads? it's called applying anaesthetics - well,
an anaesthetic, or a placebo - in polite society people
get over-excited, unconditionally so, over-stimulated,
unconditionally so, with having to muster having
many opinions, politics can become a circus de facto,
de facto as in: detached from rural England.
so if we'll never attack the status quo with dialectics,
will be constantly multi-opinionated, changing the
subject all the time, and when challenging, we'll
only feed an anaesthetic, an anaesthetic that will become
a confession booth in a catholic church:
a quasi-solipsism, the listener and the other person
talking, mono-dialectics, so well entrenched these days
that there's even a good reason for practising
psychiatry rather than a catholic confession in church,
psychiatry is, after all, a secular version of the catholic
practice - more intimidating though, since you're
facing each other, rather than sitting at parallel positions,
shrouded in secrecy of the wooden mosaic wall of
the booth... i'm just wondering if this attempt to feel
the naked soul does not intimidate the clothed body
more to later undress itself in ***.

You are sitting on the couch
Watching Television
You’re playing a game on your cell phone
When the dog’s ears perk up.

She’s Home

The dog runs to the front door
She opens it and comes in.
She has dinner in her arms.
“Do you need any help?”   “Gee thanks, I got it”, She replies sarcastically.

She’s Home

You go back to your game
Try and listen to the television
“What have you been doing since you’ve been home?”
Like She doesn’t know

She’s Home

You ignore her
“What have you been doing since you’ve been home?”
“I just got here.”
“The trash needs to be thrown out.”

She’s Home

You get up off the couch
Pause your game
Suddenly the old T.V. show you were half watching becomes very important.
“let me get that for you.”

She’s Home

She has brought Chinese Food.
It smells good.
You take out the trash
Come back in and your plate has small portion on it.  I guess you are being put on a diet.

She’s Home

You go to the fridge and get a beer.
“Do you want one dear?”
“No I don’t”, She snaps
This is going to be a fun dinner

She’s Home

“I need your help around this house”
“Yes I know”
“Well it doesn’t seem like it, I find you sitting on the couch playing a game and watching T.V.”
This is what she does.

She’s Home

You think to yourself.
Take off your skirt and blouse.
Leave your ******* on but pull your ***** out of your bra
Then come over here and **** my ****.

She’s Home

She is still rambling away.
C’mon let’s get it on.
She keeps on talking
You were starting to get hard now you’re shrinking fast.

She’s Home

She lays a guilt trip on you
So you clear off the table.
wash your cereal bowl from the morning.
The kitchen looks pretty nice now that

She’s Home

You think about ******* her again
You like the way she dresses for work
She comes out of the bedroom in baggy sweats and big t-shirt.
Oh no

She’s Home

She watches your show for about 30 seconds
“what else is on?”
Let’s pay per view ****
“put on whatever you want”

She’s Home

She changes the channel to something stupid.
Who the hell is this woman?
What have you done?
You’re not free you are trapped
She’s Home

You need ***.  
You get closer and put your hands on her shoulders.
You start to massage her shoulders.
“I think the dog needs to go out.”

She’s Home

You get up off the couch take the dog outside.
Why did you do this to yourself?
You just want to relax.
You think about going to the bar but….

She’s Home

The dog is done you bring him in.
You ready to take charge.
Tell her to get into the bedroom NOW!
She’s on the phone to her mother.

She’s Home

Another night like this
Maybe you should go to the gym
Maybe you should get a hobby
You would love to be playing poker right now.

She’s Home

Ah….. if you were single.
All the trips you would be on.
Ski trips, Las Vegas turn-arounds, golf outings.
Jet setting to Europe and Asia to check out the local scene.

She’s Home

Go online get a price on that Motorcycle.
Where is your surfboard?
You should take Guitar Lessons.
“Can you get me some water?”

She’s Home

You’re bored you try and keep yourself busy.
You play your game, flip through a magazine.
Why Why Why
Waiting for the time to go to sleep.
She says she’s tired
You follow her to bed
You ravish her.  
She loves it
It’s over that quickly.
You’re happy …..

She’s Home.

With one night stands and sleep arounds
the social stigma is reduced to grounds
that begin with coffee one malnutritioned morning
and end with morals being left at the pound
independence isn't what anyone has found

The out line
Of my fingers
Crept together
In the light
That tip toed
Through the darkness
No condolences
We're offered
Except for mine
And from that sympathy
Came something
I cannot explain
I still can't
Speak your name
This game
Is slowly ending
But it winds
And turns me
In your corner
You aren't
My owner
Never will
Be
It's safe to say
I love you
Or loved
Because the meaning
Of that thing
Has slowly dissipated
With all my emotion
Corrosion
I can feel it
In my face
I still love
I still hate
Just please
Get out
Of my head
It's ruining
Everything I've said
This beginning
When I wake up
And even though
I miss the ruins
That I lived in
All my life
I finally see
They aren't for me
I love your ruining
But I'm through
Running
From what's
Meant to be

To believe that friendship is something sacred,
is like spitting on the ground and calling it art,
Too many run-arounds with the same kinds of crowd,
and I'm tired of putting myself on the line.

It's the worst of it's kind,
To know that all your friends tell lies.

I'm done playing nice,
Pretending everything's fine,
Because when it all comes down to it,
I'm the one that holds my life.

Best friend's never had such a meaning,
as it does to me right now,
and if I could pretend I didn't feel this way,
I wouldn't feel like choking someone out.

Circles of the same ol' same,
has turned my trust into a form of pain.

I'll pretend it's okay,
I'll swallow that pride,
I've learned to want so little,
and it's really not worth my time.

The worst days become hell,
when you have to realize so much,
When you finally feel like you're connecting,
it always turns to dust.

Paper.
Is canvas so white,
I ruin what it is every time that i write.
Or create what it had the potential to be...art.
So she breaks me down.
Uncreates someone that had potential to be...smart
but dumbed down,
lower than the ground,
to appease his main squeeze.
Everytime she came around,
it was like he lost his ground;
and with lost ground comes broken dreams.
Broken hearts and unspoken things,
that needed to be said.
I cant believe the things I've heard or seen.
*******
**** kisser.
*******.
used to love her,
now I miss her,
every hot summer.
Every cold winter,
to hold so close.
Like a puzzle we would fit we could sit nose to nose,
and not say a word,
not move one muscle,
we would still find a way to get us into trouble.
The better we were,
the worse that we got.
However clever our harsh words were,
we always worried a lot.
When things got too good,
we hurried to stop.
And blame got very,very blurry a lot.
Our own worst enemy.
Or are we?
Who are we?
We’re not we.
We are you and me.
Separate as could be,
ill be a,
you and you be z
because you see...
we were a canvas so white.
You ruined what we were
with the habits and the fights.
Now we is a past tense term,
that isn't spoken
because its known when,
brought up
the subject takes a wrong turn.
And things are said that were never meant.
Ego’s tongue spits out its two cents.
But more than two or three or four,
so many cents we’re talking dollar stores.
So many ups downs all arounds,
peaks and valleys,
so many smells and sounds,
that equal you.
Like a sequel taking me back to the first time,
the very first case of some stomach butterflies.
But now i feel empty,
so empty down inside.
If you hadn’t marked this canvas,
this blank white canvas of mine.

And sometimes, sometimes the lack of tears is what's most frightening.

An impenetrable numbness that surrounds me.
Has molded around my being.
A hard shell that even a chisel cannot chip.

I am a stone. Cold, so cold.

When did I lose my heart?
When did I lose the ability to care and trust and feel?

Oh, to feel again.
The salty wet tears on hot rosy cheeks.
The rush of crisp fresh air filling my lungs, lifting me, enticing my smooth bare feet to take courageous steps on soft beds of grassy fields.

Where did that girl go? Carefree and whimsical. The girl who welcomed emotional instability. The ups and downs and all arounds are gone.

She has gone and I am here.
I am what's left.
I am the surviving soul.

My black, wretched soul.

I awoke
from sleep
nightmares, enforced by you
sweat,
cold,
I turn over and try to fall
fall back
asleep
an impossibility, a futile attempt
there's a full dining room's worth
plates,
spinning plates, in my head
they never stop, always spinning
till one wobbles, balance falters,
and just as you'd expect they fall
one
after another
crashing
another
but there's always one
one left,
still spinning, shakily
waiting for the mess to be cleaned up
where'd that little fairy go?
the one who used to follow you around..
who is gonna clean up this mess
NO!
No, I cleaned up after you long enough!
even a maid receives a paycheck, compensation
I was just a slave
a slave to you, a slave to my mind
the trickery and contortion, you'd think I was a gymnast,
of Olympic Gold proportions!
I was a lap dog, following you around,
eating what ever you gave me,
begging for more
please sir, more?
more abuse,
more deception,
more than just friends
more than just a use,
for a good time
for who?
I worked so hard at trying
trying to make you love me
trying to make you see
obvious oblivion,
I get it!
You're blind!
hopefully
you must be,
Have you even seen some of these women?
those one night roll arounds
you're just so polite
waiting till the morning to push them out
out the door,
and you will, oh how they know you will,
but still you'll call them
those disposable women
you'll call because you know it's free
because you know they want you to
if only you were good enough to have one for every day
of the week -
you know, those ones
the ones you equated me too!
But,
a friend of mine you'll always be
so long as it pays off for you
a few amazing hours
naked
together, alone
a drinking buddy when the regulars are out of town
a gram here, a joint there
an easement of your guilt
for allowing yourself to lie
right through your teeth
to the face of an adoring fan
to use, abuse and get what you can
from your supposed life long friend!
you should have been more careful though
for you smell nothing like a rose
you wreak
your stench so vile
you slop your sludge of a personality
right across my face
before twisting the knife in my back
then pretend like none of it exists
extinct
though that would imply that it once existed
which you've stated
for certain
it does
not.

Swapping astrology puzzle pieces
Stitching, patch working like cartoons writing typwriters
How many holes can I fit into my ear, can fix self brand new
I can sew
when is drunk wants the toilet to be a female therapist
done with psychologists
feel benzo anymore
taste narco anymore
Psychotropic **** arounds, ******* around with their sandy chalk trysyclo

In conscious hours the mask I wear,
Of indifference to cares,
Becomes more than a mere facade.
I too don't know it's there.

But in the night when darkness takes
The mask from off my face
I close my eyes and my dreams start.
Like torches to my heart.

I made my choice, I had to say
I didn't have a care.
But when the eve had ended day,
My mind's eye saw you there.

Your smile your lips your hair your eyes.
I played my humble part.
And while I lived my life of lies
Another took your heart.

At first it was all just a game
To watch the drama fly.
The ups and downs and go-arounds.
I really rolled my eyes.

When did it change? I couldn't say,
Cause I don't really know.
When did the cynic in me die?
When did my love start growth?

And here I am, trapped in myself.
My true feelings to hide.
As love evolved between you both
Myself I do despise.

You'll never know the pain I felt
To watch you two converse.
You smile at him, he smiles at you,
I feel my heartstrings burst.

I dealt with it the best I could,
The cruel punishment.
To be the third wheel of it all
When you two came or went.

I think the hardest part for me
Was when he asked advice.
He'd ask of me "What would you do?"
I tried to steer him right.

I helped him word his letters,
Advised him what to say.
I coached him as he talked to you
And silently I prayed:

"Oh Lord when will my time here end?
I can't take it anymore.
Emotionally beaten.
Inside my heart is torn."

Now here am I, defenseless.
My mask in shatters lies.
I can no more deceive myself,
As tears spring to my eyes.

I won't lie, I tried and tried
To lock away my heart.
But in the end I stood no chance
Against your beauty's charms.

As you now prepare to leave
Your family and your home
A part of me will go with you.
I'll feel very alone.

I'll miss the stars within your eyes,
The sunshine in your smile.
The way you laughed and talked with me.
The way you dressed with style.

I wish you both the best of luck.
You'll both be leaving me.
I hope you have fun in the States
While I'm across the sea.

To me you're the most beautiful
Girl that I've seen
While I've lived my time on earth,
And wherever else I've been.

I know that you and him
Really have a thing.
I won't get between you two,
Just let the love birds sing.

But if he ever breaks your heart,
Or if things don't work right,
You'll always have a friend in me
Through all the trials of life.

Thank you, Princess, for everything,
for letting us be friends.
I love you, and I bid farewell.
Until we meet again.

i stand, self-aware, and watch the upward curve of his smile
his hands fiddle with the lint in his pockets and suddenly,
my cheeks flush rosy and i feel the need to remind myself
there is nothing beautiful about wasting time
he laughs slightly and something in me starts running and
i fight the urge to catch it
he steps forward, just so much that i become acutely aware
of the shared air between us - of which i forgot to breathe
i inhale & exhale, trying to remember
what it is that scares me the most
about this moment
i can feel the suspense arounds us
and it lingers there for a long while
it begs me to do something daring, but i wait a moment more
before closing the space that separates us
i am now within one blink of his smile
and i blink and he
kisses me
slowly, like he knows
there will be plenty of traffic on the way home
like he’s just trying to learn something new before he leaves
i slowly come undone and feel the curve of his smile,
my own beaming up at him
and i take a deep breath and remind myself
there is something beautiful about this moment

People are not happy, so am I.
When you feel you have a great and wonderful life,
they tell you that you don't,
and ruin your day become a part.

You have to grow with a **** life
and people who are not happy always arounds you.
They are you sometimes in others.

You can't be changed by people.
But they always go wherever you go.

People are not happy, so am I.
A modern society life wants you to be like them.
But you are not people who are not happy,
so am I.

I got-you.... Through the storm and rain, heartache and pain, I got-you. Through, peace and war, loss of love-ones and more, I got-you. Through, ups-and-downs, and all of-life's crazy turn-arounds, I got-you. Through, sickness and health, poverty or wealth, I got-you. When you're happy or sad, When you're laughing or mad, I got-you. When you cry- because you're blue; over something that, someone has put you through. I got-you.... When you smile because you're free.... and you're walking in your liberty. I got-you.... Whatever comes our way, right-up to my dying day. I Got You!

The heaving of my stomach
Hard and convulsive, as I slip down the drain
My shaky hands can't hold a tune
And my throat is sore and burning
My legs slip out from under me as my knees collapse
My heart races and my lungs skip a beat
The world spins in lazy hula-hoops arounds and around
My bottle breaks as my eyes begin slide down my cheeks
My stomach rests in knots at my feet
And I lose my causes to the unconscious desire that is human

i find my mind blank
when the world arounds alive
but in my loneliness i ponder
and that is my demise
my eyes attempt to open
reality is blinding
you see that its ironic
that life and death are binding
the wise seem always dying
the ignorant do prosper
in this modern day and age
an empty mind is proper

A burning mass
Of bi polar
Energy
Ups and downs
And all
Arounds
It's who
I am
Deal with it

This feeling is new
And I know its so true
It's ups & downs & turn arounds
It's highs & lows & smiles & frowns
So amazing to me
How strong it could be
Tougher than steel
In my heart I feel
The power of love
Could make me fly like a dove

Who is he?
My heart pounds
It does it all arounds
When i look into the skies
I can see his eyes
When i look upon the lands
I can see his hands
When i'm eating bangles
I can see his angles
When im doing this describle
I am holding the Holy Bible
The nails with the rust
He died for us
He rose again
Without the pins
There was a flood
And it was his blood
Who is he?

this
is exactly the moment the collision occurred
this is the distortion of reality
the glance at your hands gripping the wheel
this is the stoppage of time
the numbing silence

you looked so beautiful knowing it would hurt
i always figured it would
i always asked you to wear a seatbelt
you always asked me to leave in peace
this is it then

this
is the tranquility of non-existence
this is the blood in my mouth that i can't identify as mine or yours and
this is the steel frame of the car and heart distorted

this is where fate meets human fragility
where the light makes sounds
where i can't remember the last words i said to you but
i hope they were clever

i hope something becomes of me
i hope you here my voice in car horns
and see me in ambulance lights

you were always so vibrant and i wonder where all your light went
back to the crash then
i felt us collide with the guardrail
and my soul wrap arounds yours

This life is filled with worry
people always ask me what's so great about your story
What makes you different
Start with the mental finger print
People only see whats on the skin
Hey even I'm guilty of this simple sin
We all judge and judgement isnt bad
Yes judgment can hurt but it doesn't always make you sad
My Life of many ups an downs
60 billion twists an turn arounds
But I won I'm still living
Fighting an owning this love an beat I've been given
Welcome to my life, my world, an my mind
I'm glad to be unique, one an only, one of a kind

******* at the funeral
poison women aching in their parallel
they drink until Juliet is dead
or until in their head too
it is clear
free of fear and recalling
this was always supposed to be a tragedy
______________

no left or right turn
changes that everything, even love
begins and ends with some type of poison
the slowly dripping IV type
or
a sudden break check
dash to face type of poison

the Juliets' love only exists on one page
allowed to live if the real goal
is to die
smoke breaks, goodbyes
the ever too consistent "I'll see you arounds"
that is the point of a tragedy
it gets to claim the reason for existing
and the entire existence itself

Juliet drinks the poison every night
even after the man in the hole warned me
her love feeds on the liver
while the others begin to fade out

Some days you're thrown an I just don't know
Other days it's all right there
A glimmer of hope in which to cope
A fresh breath of poetic air

A constant loop as the dial slowly moves
In its never ending search for the truth
Some days you write the poem
Some days the poem writes you

From the ups and downs to the toss arounds
All  grate on a soul in time
But what's growing there inside your despair
Can pour forth in the perfect rhyme

Some days you find the inner light
Others you have no clue
Some days you write the poem
Some days the poem writes you

You can be more or less inspirationaless
Then your pen flairs with the finest finesse
The point that you make either blows them away
Or what you have to say is anyone's guess

Holding onto the theme of your color scheme
Being the brightest of hues
Some days you write the poem
Some days the poem writes you

So here i am again so tired but cant turn in,
The days are long the drinks are strong to spice lady evening,
As coolness comes with the fleeing sun,
And peeking out through misty clouds the moon is on the hill,
So the peace this simple ease precludes the coming storm,
A dancing leaf on lines laid deep the only proof of memory,
For whats not now has past somehow away into the evening,
At times we frown then turns arounds find peace within the being,
The stream where in it never ends,
So lets clasp tight and holding might survive the coming rapids,
Though things move swift ahead a cliff will cascade into the fall,
Gentle now got through somehow though pain and ache may linger,
Your tinder skin still brings a grin though years have passed around us,
And some friends drowned ill be happy with what we have now,
Though in my heart they'll always be,
Theres something special in you and me,
We float on and patiently find love within the water.