the whip and crackle of the page as it is snapped down into submission, a fresh tame plane to defile with this ink I spread through your mind
but this is digital on my screen
so fuck you asshole
I know right
well these words were written on a piece of paper
doesn't translate dooosh
fine I'll write about this blinking bar that poops out my words so that you can absorb the horrid smell of all these piles of scat scattered about this screen
talk about something interesting
the clouds give my eyes some cushion, something pleasant and still to catch my gaze, a little rest from all these lights flying by beyond the speed of my sight, but the quiet puffs of white that wander through the sky, they are at my pace, you can continue on with your race, I'm just gonna lay down in this cloud's shade and appreciate this young gal's face, sorry I'll get back to this fine day, the cloud's shadow showing us the sun's rays outlining a dark space, the sky's glory surrounding, I expect me to rhyme so I'll talk about the astounding mountains out in the distance, but I try to remain in this present, it is gifted to me every moment so I'll sit here unwrapping and unwrapping until all I have is paper in my lap and no present to enjoy
and I will still enjoy it, because there is nothing else to do but rejoice at this breath, and all the words it could create, all of the life it could contain, and any of the life that may remain after, when silence is heard where there was laughter, and calamity is only broken up with disaster, we will be beyond fixable with plaster, but now I'm just a bastard tryin to stick to this rhyme like some master, but I'm not even amateur, just another random nerd
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