Stroke of sound to the end

I wait before I name a title. Cause i don’t really know what I will write or what will come out. Two ears and one mouth.
stroke of the piano, one sound.
Let my thoughts blend with it. Like some glenfiddich. Bring’em out.. single malt.
Better ways for better days. Waiting for the train to come. Listening to some music , staring.. like my brain is gone.
Too early in the morning. See I’ve never been a morning man, but dont get me wrong though, I love another day. To live another way.
Endless movement to surpress another stay. Flashback a back-lash , replay another play. mmhm.
See I know some don’t make sense to ya’ll. But if you ask, ima say how it is, so we can continue to another phase.
Sun goes up, sun goes down. In between We lay horizontal in deep profoundness. No way to go around it. Even if reality strikes hard we’re all dreamers. everyone’s gotta sleep right?.. just like everyones gotta eat. unfortunately one of them comes naturally, the other as a treat.
We’re starving in many ways. The hunger for lust, the hunger for trust, the hunger to bust out of the project. The hunger to adjust one of the subjects to fit one of your objects. The hunger for cost and ways to top it. Endless hunger, over the edge , going under.
Son of a mother. Brother to a brother. Let’s not forget the holy father. The author. I’m an image of him, as he’s a image of me. the image of three. cause together we create new things, the image of ”we”.

Showing no emotions, cause I’m committed. I’m told it’s forbidden to do so, living in the fast lane but move slow.
Growing no devotion , cause I’m permitted. Bold and admitted to choose those tiny little moments that prove growth.

And when it rains, I lift my face to the sky, let the rain pass my eyes. The rain makes me smile. sunshine.

Too bad time wasn’t like money cause boy do i love the time that I spend. and best of all it never has an end.. or does it? think im coming close to the end. yeah i said it.. close the end..

—The End—

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