Breakfast on the sand
I don’t know how to pen this verse, I just cannot find the correct words, they are trembling on my lips, and I must place them in the correct order to make them fit. Pants without shirt gorilla wallowing in the dirt; black bear eating honey from the tree and the lion is in the den waiting for thee. The three musketeers are here, and they are on a global mission to start a new life in the middle of a painful sacrifice, and so the fight for their life. Anthos, Porthos, and Aramis demand satisfaction and so they wasted no time and start a duel packed with action. I am trying to pen this verse without pen or purse. Come with me to the hill and you will hear the nightingale sings, with its robust tail, it sings day and night in the thickish and woodland and across vegetatious land. The male cannot resist their counterparts for they gather after dark and establish their territory across the land. They are migratory birds with seasonal taste, and they enjoy the breeze with a different race. I am trying to pen this verse, while you dress in blue jeans and skirt, looking for work. There is no paying jobs around and the hustlers are running around in town; you have got to create many projects and make the earth wet. Listen to the melodies in the skies, summer is slowly passing by, breakfast in the sun is shaking in my hands. Release the dollars in the street so that the people can have something enjoyable to eat. You make requests that are absurd, and it leaves the scavenger flying in the air causing the people to fear. Breakfast on the sand and the nightingale on the land will make life real when you break the seal. In ancient Greece they are a symbol of love, melody and beauty; come and help me pen this verse and get me out to the dirt. Breakfast in the sand is walking hand in hand.
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