pain is an illustration
of the games we played
the gains we may had made
but lost along the way
the tissues strained laid out
and fissures splayed
pain is an illumination a grade
on that train headed west
sun breaks the horizon
seen the world two times now
but keep on traveling
the echoes of an era burn
so hills the moon keeps trim
of those and tides roll in
and the land starts sinking
some folks just dont know
what it is theyre missin
starting every day
without ever livin
you could say we got here by takin not givin
mouts speack out each day
without sayin nothin
the secret of life
aint worth findin
false prophets
in need of remindin
so in.first of all, is it
a snake
or a stick
Next?
it seems to be a little
bit of both
buoyed on
by the hopes
of appearing less a
stick
and more a
snake
january has many a cassowary
february has a hairy bear
march has a poplar start
april has a windowsill
may has a way
june has a river moon
july has functions piecewise
august has just enough
september has time forever
october has eaten the leftovers
november has never ever
december has timbre