Sitting on a faded couch, I hug my cup of tea
It's slowly getting colder out and no one's here with me
...
Passing by on a dark lit street
New shoes on a man I'm never gonna meet
...
We can only ‘waste' so much time before we realize that it's something we have never done
You can only waste so much time, but time shouldn't be defined by dust flying around the sun
...
Logic, practicality, and some form of Truth
Objectively may seem fair toll for dreams so unkindly aged
And so for and from these things I strain life from youth.
In want of new ideals begins a pilgrimage of hermitage
...
Today Was A Limerick Among Sonnets
Sitting on a faded couch, I hug my cup of tea
It's slowly getting colder out and no one's here with me
Filling up my head again with useless inquiry
We're biting down on sour apples, biding all our time
Counting up experience and trying to make it rhyme
You really shouldn't complain, I hear, It's really not so bad
Don't you have so many things that others never had?
Oh, but we shouldn't smile so much today, it's really not that good
Don't you also know the rich own things our family never could?
The dust that sets, the fighter jets, the winds and ocean rise
Charring roots, muddy boots, and futile compromise
Half an hour left till autumn's wintry flawless theft
Noticing a newborn name while mourning the bereft
Seamless cycles summersault so soon since Spring's pale sigh
One thing, next, unto another, hopelessly passed by