~*°*~
I was a dreamer, that’s what my mother used to...
Life is a guitar, a singing man
stretching like a crack...
It bears Four secret names.
Three appear...
When the moon is the only sound, I hear.
Can the sun and stars fill the empty in me...
I don’t need the room, to make me pertinent.
The straight jacket of public opinion...
Every time you deny the truth,
every time you persuade yourself...
The truth of scripture is this:
you were never meant...
Scrolling through the shouting
Everybody drawing lines...
Oh name
a field of endless contest...
Physics and AI,
drafting humanity for yet another con job...
Here I am, armed with my pen,
its ink running low. lifespan...
Lily white! on this a sunny African day.
Used feel like home, now the back foot only...