Guess it winds back to time...
when i stood full with lime...
it was just yesterday in a line...
i was less scattered with the dime...
it was more of the words and the word...
my eyes read sentences of that cord...
despairing the clock that clicked...
i sat wavering the pages while it blinked...
devouring cups and extra cup of coffees...
i gulped down the caffeine on my tees...
i smelled the filth of a wrecked insomniac...
despite the fact that i perfumed my nocturniac...
least i caught the pages of words in flames...
i gripped the tails of numbers in trembles....
i wrote a letter instead of letters...
so i scored a number instead of numbers...
the oil from my cheeks shone with guilt...
and i succumbed to the thought of that tilt...
they say the show must go on...
and they tell that i must not con...
there is a but after that sentence...
that i mustn't show my pretense...
I dwell in my worth...
and I dim in my growth...
life is but a river of might and glow...
papers are the rocks that test the flow...
i am but the navigator of my ship...
and ever i will sail in my rift...
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