Fast forwarding, Catatonic movements
Slow motions, rewinding times scape
My mind is, made out of, razorblades
Deciphering, each cuttings depths
——-
I was wondering, upon a rainbows edge
While clouds, were slowly drifting by
Casually dancing, upon inert planes
Of what is, but can never truly become
——–
Yet the truth, of whom I have become
Is the Peace, Love, and Eternities
Of what is, and what will never be
Because I simply, just am who I am
featherstonepoetry