Cluckcluckowo

The sunlight has gone too dark and the sky has gone too gray. The boat so early embarked and its pain shine faded away. To trudge and not to skip and catch yourself trip but still careful to never fall again. In the air, the cold wind is a gale that pushes and spins even the highest weather-bane on that tallest tower. The milk has gone sour because in this darkest hour the apple of my eye has gone rotten. Yet he will never be forgotten but build up some dust and bleach in the sun. The last things left, what was once one.

My steps were always as unsteady as the next, While I trip over each foot. It was a voice and word that made me stumble time and time again, But every time less and less. And soon I began to walk and chase, the pipe dream that was always too real for its own beauty. The notes that never quite fit, always seemed to have their way to ease their ways in with you, around you I would never want to stop hearing, those words that had been said. But the words unsaid, always stuck on your tongue, like the cars in traffic that fill the streets and illuminate the concrete, and captivate me. I wanted the clocks to move, with the wheels so my patience

I sit on the same chair day by day, asking then answering the same questions day and night But despite this seemingly monotonous lifestyle lies, a new person each time who performs. On some days I am timid, shy and small, Withdrawn into myself and too contemplative As contemplation becomes a prison for my thoughts And censors my true passion On other days I am exuberant and confident, My strong character shines through any calignosity of insecurity and doubt; Elucidating that human spirit to be seen. And on all these days I am one and all that I could ever wish to be: That star that shines scintillates through that same darkness,