I’m just a Wirral Squirrel,
from the Insular Penninsular.
I seek release from the confine of my mind, that holds me imprisoned and oft in schism; ah... to take flight, that I might soar into the eternal velvet night.
think Pygar, looking to fly... birds are our dream of flight, escape from all that would be below us, that we live amongst now...
Went walkin in tween the woods, kickin up a pile of wet golden leaves as I do so, the light rain and breeze fallin on y face, beneath the brim of my black cap and, smearing up my leses. And, though my limbs ache after a good evening, sitting as I sit; and, I’d breather clean air as I stood to stare, at the birds wheelin high in the sky and, even had stopped to smile, at the mother and child, swamped by the blue and white golfing umbrella that had dwarfed them both and I’d smiled, thinking, “How cute.”
So green, it’s almost black
They stand on the platform opposite his; and he watches her stand on tip-toe and drapes her arms around the other man’s neck. And, she seems unaware that he’s there, or perhaps just doesn’t care: after all, they’d only been together for nearly fours year, till that young fellow came along, for wine, for her and, song…
my way of being
everyday I walk a fine balancing act.
avoiding meds when you need them.
everyday I walk, a very fine wire and,
it’s just a way of being. being me.
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