Friday, December 20, 2013
His everyday presence forgot me,
A little farther and the world toppled,
Investigations loomed larger than ice,
Brittle were the mechanisms of this small disease.
My research has been condemned by him,
For a moment, he took off the bucket.
Then worries were face-to-face,
Never wearing helmets on the heart.
My probable heats were aligned,
Menace happened on the continent,
Edges of disgrace overwhelmed and tilted
The balance we call living and disorder.