from the time
I have, I spend it ill wisely
but thats ok, its all mine
I fly through my own air,
I take with my own scythe
when you see a way, you can see it in all paths
as the grains of sand find the glass funnel
we capture smiles like a child catching bubbles
silently breathe through trouble
as I build grand art towers
and hug out full on romances
I see the process build roads for smile
pillage paths for family
torch ghosts for solitude
We become us
on one night, when the expression connects
when the child asks,
how much for the canvas?
its your painting darlin
title.
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