My words are a direct reflection of what is being played out in my mind. For artistic purpose and dramatic effect I have duct-tapped the "edit" button…
Clouds billowing, flowing about like sheets blowing in the wind Backyard clothesline posts lean against an aging Mother NatureSails on a boat filling up to come about, tacking from east to westAnd looking up into the sky like a child seeing images of love, laughter, imaginary animals and castles in the sky;rather than the evils …
Hanging on by a single thread silk woven bare bones And you ask why I don't cry or why I sleep walk instead Of resting dream like in my bed and all I can think about is how my hands ache Every time I walk past a grave site with granite stone shining bright There …
Trilby Yates 