glass box
lined in blue and white neon
shot me back 25 years
time didn't matter
a complex function
something I wasn't meant to understand
variables and sequences
couldn't fix the now, then, or ever
ebony glass, with a cold sheen
so brittle, and fragile
nothing can move without permission
so then I take precautions
because nothing is controlled by my mind
only in it
it's like a journey
trial and voyage
exile within exile
the only things that sound appealing
are: paint, time to myself, books, writing
I want a masterpiece
it wont happen the first try
but the first try is a step
and I know it's possible
take some moments
and remember
No comments:
Post a Comment