I would seize the
day as a sign of tomorrow, sitting with a cigarette. I played with a lighter. I
kept looking at its flame. we see much in retrospection. the lights are
inscrutable. the rain is scheduled. the fierceness is nonchalance. most crops
are blighted, decimated, the occasion is the retrospection. I want to prove
them wrong. I’m merely a child. it doesn’t seem fair. let me demystify many,
something might be human, as long as it’s hidden, it remains a mystery. it might be human.
I say it with
skepticism in me. much can’t be explained. to whom goes the credit?
we embitter much of our works.
I put the
cigarette out. I placed it in a trash bin.
much yielding is required. much
arrogance is seen. many watchers, closer than others.
some are churlish, vulgar, with
ability to become holy. trying to negotiate is quicksand, sinking slowly, it
may become violence.
some are facile,
superficial, with absolute science.
I light another one, hold my stance,
watching a porcupine. it could be
great. it could mean change. a galloon of humility is required.
we buttress souls; that is, we
support them, not until, but regardless. a stronger claim, dealing with
envy/jealousy, many can’t discern the difference. the former needs to be you.
the latter wants to ruin you.
much finesse in acquiring one Love—boldness
for another—the other was indifferent. much commotion in games. I ask what a
person needs from me. many needs for you to need them, in order to both feel
needed and walk away.
