Skating
Riding in glides,
super-sailing in leaps-
going on and on about the otherside,
trailing to collide,
and oppressing in the peaks of my plight,
in the loneliest day which is just as night.
I now look to the sky!
Interesting in my sights,
interesting to deny of life,
and the rotating bike,
with some ivory fight,
I now look to the sky!
As your stand-up comedian,
as your rhyme of the eye!
A rye of the ripening fry-
an intrinsic like a cry!
I now look to the sky!
Melancholic,
systematic,
the intimation of procreating during a sustainment-
intonation,
allocation,
the moody croons,
and the wisdom drooping in swoons.
The ink-ur-
slowly to rise but lingers,
Trojan Horse!
'Enemy's Tinkerer!'
And yes also with a sorry clown in a finger,
does it right but still does it meager,
because he is a teacher-
and you reach her.
Every time the lurid outcasts are seen in the wooden brinks,
it's connection is formed through a grave mistake!
The next day is what you take away,
no matter how hard or faked we were in our try-
I sped into the curb but it took me dry.
I worked and worked but nobody saw my eyes,
I was always in a youthful wonder of how we die,
I couldn't peace out or even par-take,
I wanted the real thing just like my base.
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