There is nothing I can do.

Thing on my mind and
slow days ahead of me.

transition is a quality
of mine – sum of thought.

rest, rest, the body calls.

Chipper and colloquialisms of
hello and high.

Renew the rhythm of life –
my hope is in a cure.

My brother, I love you.

Subject to my own life
of responsibility.

Help the damon on you
back; he will shock!

Plus, the occasional smirk
tells me I can’t sell.

“We need more consignments.”

I tell myself skip him,
he; my father.

I ip crip.

Indian vessel on m heart
trips the sips.

No, and thank you is all
I write.

I have wrote the page
and caused the heart.


The wedding is coming
up colder and colder.

Solace of this time,
Good hearts solace.


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