And then there is this, such as it is... me adrift in my mind where all the natural things that give my mind ease are always so easy to find. In moonlit rose bushes, in soft spring breezes, in sounds of an evening where all I see pleases, the beautiful mind created in me where no one else lives and no one else sees.
And then there is this, such as it is... where no one else lives and no one else sees the world as I view it through my own eyes, behind all the memories a vision in night, adorned by sunlight reflected by moon upon a new flower waiting to bloom, as I in my mind find word to define these moments that I have a few thoughts and the time.
And then there is this, such as it is... the moments where I spend time with myself unwinding from moments of everyone else. Wrapped in my comforts, my wants to adore, where romantic thinking begs me to explore a newness, a rapture, a place yet to be, where I in my own right am well pleased to see.
And then there is this, such as it is... where I in my own right fight my own hesitations, to grasp to the life line from these worded indications, to make my life right in a way that I crave, throughout all the expectancy of what I must say, to appease for a moment this hunger that raves behind all that's seen in my own way.
And then there is this, such as it is... never really knowing how to appease all that's thought within all the confines of which I've been taught, by rule, in regulation, in deeds of the doings, while others make haste in their eschewing of what I would say or what I must think or what I believe about such a thing.
And then there is this, such as it is... the eschewing of a thing is where my mind lives away from what worries, away from what's forced, away from what renders my mind to divorce, its natural want from the page where it longs to put into write where it belongs with all of the beauty it knows is alive inside such a thing where I might thrive.
