The birds fly,
south of these lands.
Foolish to think such things.
A crayon does speak my mind,
...
7 days, know no fear
6 people shed a tear
5 birds drink beer
4 men linger asteer
...
Wind in this hair, its nowhere but all in my mind.
Can it see the joy it brings me?
Or does it only breathe its wisdom unto my being.
...
Do not think it over,
Do not question the motive.
Its not for us to tell,
or them to know.
...
I hear the girls behind me chatter,
mindless rantings filled with spic and spatter.
They speak of things,
I find no interest.
...
I see the screen,
it blinks back at me.
Do not speak to me,
or attempt any faulse pretenses.
...
Pandora's cube,
or was it a box?
A cardboard box of riches,
or a lavish estate of rags.
...