A Master Needs A Masterpiece
What a fascinating fellow
He gave us mountains,
A Day’s Work: The Search For Purpose And Dreams Of Finding It
7: 00 A.M.
What is it with it with old women hanging their undergarments from clothes lines in unfenced back yards so early in the morning? My stomach is already unsettled by the greasy breakfast and vengeful hangover. Shame must have an expiration date.
People question me about my content
“You never write about the beautiful things”
Everything is grim
Everything is ugly
The Wheel Of Misfortune
Wisdom plays the voice of reason
Reason slaps the hand of hope
Hope rides the wave of faith
Faith moves the wall of fear
Elitist wants the world bent at his ever fattening waist. I’m better then you yet you think your richer then I. A telescope reaches an eye to the stars, but eyes grow weary of sights so far away. Hearts, crashed into a hoopla of fast talking salesmen
The feet wait to walk
Preacher sells the good of god, and the atheist steals it right back.
They are both taxed by eyes of innocence. Forgetful of this, the talking never quits. Living a life of nonsense makes the most. Thinkers stumble on their minds mended steps.