Thursday, December 1, 2011

the thing I speak of is a part of me

Wasn't really feeling creative today, but I showed up.

the thing I speak of is a part of me

it rises sooner an later like art you see

it appears when we don't want it the most

and it endears me to flaunt it I boast

this thing, which I speak of happens unstoppably

and the odds that you experience it are probably

we hide it from ourselves like a thief in the night

it can change everything about a belief in mere sight

time makes it appear inevitably

it strikes us hard and soft regrettably

people don't move past it they cling and hold on

wrapping themselves in it creating a cold fawn

I hold mistakes like jewels in the past

I mold there takes while fools are cast

upon a spell quickly entrapped in the ways

that failure can free or imprison a lifetime of days.

peace and goodness.

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