The Sense of the Pen-Real Gland

The journey is in writing. the writing is on the wall
It was a breeze
It was pleasing to knees
It shook me, my hands did freeze
I was appalled by the chances that I missed
All the girls who waited, whom I never kissed
All the girls who called me names as they were pissed
It was a breeze, that calmed then shook
It was a coldness that led me to void as alone I stood
Then came a voice that told me of the things that can be
Then played a song that convinced me to not be melancholy.
The electric waves rose
The voice of wisdom spoke, and I chose.
Chose to let flow and let go
A cryptic expression said mo
Mo, move and lay low and let the life slow: show all you could know if you just let flow

And there I was on the go...
Soon the signs did show
A beautiful child smiled and glowed
I stood stationary and held pole
I kept in mind intellect and weighed the chances elect
I was driven and direct
I had been against the ropes and fought the demons of death
And soon conquered myself for I had been in my own way
I found a friend and we did play
We commune and do not run out of things to say
Of ruins and hard pillars I did away
Then rosy opportunities showered on the day...

Why these roses follow me?

It is a bed, it is the floor
It is the flower, it is the thorns
It is the trust, it is the paws
It is the beauty, it is the flaws
It is the dark, it is the grey
It is mark, it is a stain
It is love evident in pain
a gland with a sense as its pen name

Why these roses follow me?

Cast into a world where I am not lonely
Embracing a heart looking for another to hold me
Stuck on a stage where my potential is for showing
Captured in the portraits of artistry where I have mine only
Walking in a garden where there are flowers of love
Picking at will and having a thrill
Hoping it doesn't tarnish my halo stored in the compartments of legends high above
Coming now help, healing all ills
Smiling and flying high, chuckling to rapture
Stunned by the feeling that has been laid to capture
Dancing alone to the sounds of movement
And I hear mo once more

Why these roses follow me?

Still drooling at how I defied adversity
How I was invincible as stinging bee
When I could have thrown the towel --- I picked myself up
When the thorns pierced my heart, I looked at the beautiful and sniffed the perfume of the flower...
I smiled at vulnerability and whispered that love is the power
I chose to keep moving as I acknowledged that I am a star,
and any soul to divinity; is never that far

Why these roses follow me, is because of the test that is measuring my ability to chase myself, get out of my way and be all I can be. The third part of me said life is mine for receiving.
I lo and behold then, as the voice said mo, as such I keep moving.

SENSE OF THE PEN-REAL GLAND
A collection meandering through various subject matters carousing reality.

Dettagli