Away from the pitiful eyes and plundered into ones crooked mailbox
The crooked road, crooked spoon and the glorified way to eliminate its own status,
To deny himself and dismember the once profound way of setting a “Great Expectation”
Down into a recollection of the unsettling choices that may or may not be prevented
An excuse to dignify his actions as oppose to admit the relentless passion to quench our own thirst and satisfy our own hunger
Hunger for what? Things that are uncalled for, not even close to being stable, we cannot pretend that we didn’t have these bitter cravings and form there on we ask a question born of riddles and oblivious of judgment, we cope up with the norms established by our own forgotten infirmity …
Do you think I can pass from my own frailty?
I guess it’s not easy to linger through locked doors, tinted windows and dried up walls with no ventilation or a breathing space to spare, a heart that is so buff it’s lacking in substance that once can connect or recollect
I’ve been here before, lurking around…walking in “Perfect Circles” I thought I'm done,
Is it too much to ask for? –Where have all the answers gone-??? Are we playing Hide and Seek or is it my profound way to “Dignify Expectations” but if not, then why talk so Fancy?...
by:
-Francis Ocampo-
March 18, 2010 at 4:00pm
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