an although the words may differ and the path may not be the same though the world may not except the truth it is for us sometimes to show it the way

sometimes I sit in this roaring silence staring into the flames remembering a life that has past love that never last tears on my hands what is the point in all the pain dreams that never came true for people like souls I never knew I am just the walking…

Knowing what is right and wrong and doing it anyway Asking the tough questions then ignoring the answers putting all your eggs in one basket then leaving it all behind and it’s true

facing uncertainty the sign read the wonderful land of oz or bust guilt runs rampid in the ranks thumb on the hitchike and the questions stink unrighteous justice or faceless atrocities and bombed out alleys the tired tormented masses Temples don’t bow down to me illuminating shadows this road is no home for the meek falling past midnight draped in linen rags and a wash of rain the easel of my eyes

days are like storms Time to be a friend and time I guess the answer moon ascends

passing cards knights turn into years of the words I can’t pronounce

typing to myself my leather boots on a shelf cans of soda lemonaide Sunflower powered turbine solar aray adorn my comment section

Painted in the background I am not that hard to see Or at least it hasn’t been that difficult for me

Cute Pretty and shouldn’t exist Injecting? rejection! hating body ? message receptors still No one calls? it’s past the thirty! bending thesaurus twisted distorted fleshy pages gunstock magazine and an island somewhere peace tangerine out of fear