Frail Situation Comments

Guessing rhymes hidden in notes and beats, awaiting formulas to set them in.
Taken consecutively, they are belabored into poetry and left on window sills to be seen when ready and not until then.
Taking care not to rock the boat, yet keep rocking anyway and sailing into the sunset waylaid by the very frailty of the situation.
Slapping against minds with rhythm as it delicately senses the end.
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