carried about on
seen service
rendered about time
looked upon
backwards thwarted signs
could not should
harried to edge
sharpened and ready
keen on some
idea flitted about
tossed among friends
wondered about realms of unreality
thoughts plundered into
noticed by the other
pierced train
lamps lighted
litter layed about
set placed perfectly
positioned in proud
manners
matter beyond
reach for faith in action.
I thought about going on, but to no avail... decided not to be specific... not to name names... blame or blames...
It's not hard... write nonfiction... I was driving about a couple of hours ago and couldn't wait to get to where I am now... is it possible to write... i hate mystery, mysteriousness... but can't help but fall into that trap...
impossible seemingly...
time to go...
I wondered what audience to aim for... how truthful to be... how candid...
fuck... will that stick with me?
will this stick?
can we really think this crap will move on?
How many of us hope for more?
Come clean...
-Rob
No comments:
Post a Comment