Time gusts over a desert of hand molded rock
In the distance tall grass slowly grows, holding off the ever encroaching sidewalk
One more day in a life of daze
Apathy seemingly shaped into puffs of pure white cotton, loom in a truly blue sky
Time flies by like a well feed snail
Misery, it is said, loves company
Then depression likes a live in guess
But change is the day
Change is the passing of a day
Whispers on times soft lips
Wrapped in the arm of cold and warmth
Loved by all
Hated by all
Lack of nothing and want of everything
The love that beauty has for beauty
This is change
And this is the day in change

 

I feel it slip
I feel it fall
I feel it all at once
The wants that I lack are numerous and help none
My vision has been blurred by possessions
I have lost the true grip on life and now I feel it slip
What was once white is now tainted
What was so true now false
Or so it seems
Perhaps it the eye and not the vision
Perhaps it

 

the writings about the rain took place at a time in Louisiana when it rained for 43 days straight!! these were not the brightest of days as one could imagine.

 

man i think i have writers block, lol

 

So um...I have a cup of coffee here, but I don't see any poems. J/K! Cool stuff!