| I woke up this morning thinking, WHERE
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| | cheese and wine are served
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| ARE MY RAINBOWS?!!I just want to know
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| | What a lovely opening...
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| that there is an open possibility of
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| | the doorway I mean
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| seeing rainbows each and every day, maybe
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| | the one with bolted breaths
|
| every second, ya know? I realize it is
| |
| | you remember that show?I stood there in
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| all within my own power, I merely need to
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| | my mind
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| obtain an objective viewpoint and spirit.
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| | my compliments to the shadow
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| I wake up each day with the same
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| | Red was not on my palette
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| potential as the guy in a grey flannel
| |
| | I reached for other colors
|
| suit..hummm... I take that back, perhaps
| |
| | they simply refused their markI will
|
| not 'every' potential. Get a grip I
| |
| | take your objections
|
| think. Unfold the daylight and meet the
| |
| | clearly
|
| goals I've set. OK... right after this
| |
| | I will point towards sleeping giants
|
| poem."Solace and Consolation"Chaos and
| |
| | wrap up their fingers
|
| distortion
| |
| | just like mine
|
| I met my motivation for recovery
| |
| | and waitTwist your arm
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| 'Twas bolted on the doorway
| |
| | Hold a hammer with your muted hand
|
| I muttered
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| | There is nothing charming about this
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| don't bother waiting
| |
| | wall I said
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| or complain of irritations
| |
| | There is noting here to keep me amused
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| I paint over all gilded cagesI force my
| |
| | I am board with it
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| fingers to make a fist
| |
| | I want to say I am finished
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| but oh
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| | and have you agreePastel
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| they refuse to bend
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| | your breath I mean
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| However will I recover?Yet there beside
| |
| | What could you have been thinking?
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| the light
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| |
|
