The journey is in writing. the writing is on the wallIt was a breezeIt was pleasing to kneesIt shook me, my hands did freezeI was appalled by the chances that I missedAll the girls who waited, whom I never kissedAll the girls who called me names as they were pissedIt was a breeze, that calmed then shookIt was a coldness that led me to void as alone I stoodThen came a voice that told me of the things that can beThen played a song that convinced me to not be melancholy.
The electric waves roseThe voice of wisdom spoke, and I chose. Chose to let flow and let goA cryptic expression said moMo, move and lay low and let the life slow: show all you could know if you just let flowAnd there I was on the go... Soon the signs did showA beautiful child smiled and glowedI stood stationary and held poleI kept in mind intellect and weighed the chances electI was driven and directI had been against the ropes and fought the demons of deathAnd soon conquered myself for I had been in my own wayI found a friend and we did playWe commune and do not run out of things to sayOf ruins and hard pillars I did awayThen rosy opportunities showered on the day...
Why these roses follow me?It is a bed, it is the floorIt is the flower, it is the thornsIt is the trust, it is the pawsIt is the beauty, it is the flawsIt is the dark, it is the greyIt is mark, it is a stainIt is love evident in paina gland with a sense as its pen nameWhy these roses follow me?Cast into a world where I am not lonelyEmbracing a heart looking for another to hold meStuck on a stage where my potential is for showingCaptured in the portraits of artistry where I have mine onlyWalking in a garden where there are flowers of lovePicking at will and having a thrillHoping it doesn't tarnish my halo stored in the compartments of legends high aboveComing now help, healing all illsSmiling and flying high, chuckling to raptureStunned by the feeling that has been laid to captureDancing alone to the sounds of movementAnd I hear mo once moreWhy these roses follow me?Still drooling at how I defied adversityHow I was invincible as stinging beeWhen I could have thrown the towel --- I picked myself upWhen the thorns pierced my heart, I looked at the beautiful and sniffed the perfume of the flower...
I smiled at vulnerability and whispered that love is the powerI chose to keep moving as I acknowledged that I am a star, and any soul to divinity; is never that farWhy these roses follow me, is because of the test that is measuring my ability to chase myself, get out of my way and be all I can be. The third part of me said life is mine for receiving. I lo and behold then, as the voice said mo, as such I keep moving.
SENSE OF THE PEN-REAL GLANDA collection meandering through various subject matters carousing reality.
The journey is in writing. the writing is on the wallIt was a breezeIt was pleasing to kneesIt shook me, my hands did freezeI was appalled by the chances that I missedAll the girls who waited, whom I never kissedAll the girls who called me names as they were pissedIt was a breeze, that calmed then shookIt was a coldness that led me to void as alone I stoodThen came a voice that told me of the things that can beThen played a song that convinced me to not be melancholy.
The electric waves roseThe voice of wisdom spoke, and I chose. Chose to let flow and let goA cryptic expression said moMo, move and lay low and let the life slow: show all you could know if you just let flowAnd there I was on the go... Soon the signs did showA beautiful child smiled and glowedI stood stationary and held poleI kept in mind intellect and weighed the chances electI was driven and directI had been against the ropes and fought the demons of deathAnd soon conquered myself for I had been in my own wayI found a friend and we did playWe commune and do not run out of things to sayOf ruins and hard pillars I did awayThen rosy opportunities showered on the day...
Why these roses follow me?It is a bed, it is the floorIt is the flower, it is the thornsIt is the trust, it is the pawsIt is the beauty, it is the flawsIt is the dark, it is the greyIt is mark, it is a stainIt is love evident in paina gland with a sense as its pen nameWhy these roses follow me?Cast into a world where I am not lonelyEmbracing a heart looking for another to hold meStuck on a stage where my potential is for showingCaptured in the portraits of artistry where I have mine onlyWalking in a garden where there are flowers of lovePicking at will and having a thrillHoping it doesn't tarnish my halo stored in the compartments of legends high aboveComing now help, healing all illsSmiling and flying high, chuckling to raptureStunned by the feeling that has been laid to captureDancing alone to the sounds of movementAnd I hear mo once moreWhy these roses follow me?Still drooling at how I defied adversityHow I was invincible as stinging beeWhen I could have thrown the towel --- I picked myself upWhen the thorns pierced my heart, I looked at the beautiful and sniffed the perfume of the flower...
I smiled at vulnerability and whispered that love is the powerI chose to keep moving as I acknowledged that I am a star, and any soul to divinity; is never that farWhy these roses follow me, is because of the test that is measuring my ability to chase myself, get out of my way and be all I can be. The third part of me said life is mine for receiving. I lo and behold then, as the voice said mo, as such I keep moving.
SENSE OF THE PEN-REAL GLANDA collection meandering through various subject matters carousing reality.