The People Are 'The Fog' And Look At The Clarity Of The Sharpening

The power of a message that strangles the coil of threatening fear in ones sole is level to clear,

the horror to the vast detail in the time in taken to breathe is more than the strata of law bolds.

In the rein to the bit with the connective grasp from Mind to body touch arm in said a vat,

the government has put limits on determination of scale with no value to the measure of able,

for in the freeze or run technicality I have always chosen run for by brain goes explode.

I being sound in character withheld for scarce I have been to find or locate do to the terror,

as a grown person it took over the allowed amount of time to even be capable of capturing the scared,

least the standard to face the cart in an order that would frame a stride and not kill my start.

Try on the expand in the reality of these hands and digit only the talk to the key board,

complete the sentence with the worth of the core the suffocation alone is basic to store.

A corpse I am in these shingles of packed for in each of the dances I have had to dance back,

square to the time not reading the lines on the pen to record for it becomes not overwhelming it kills,

right where you are you freeze, you shake, you sigh to the screaming that will not stop inside yet it won't stop the nightmares.

As your world collapses in about the surrounding your hold is your breath you pale to every body moving,

your eyes are glass in death, for each grasp of language is pork.

Chairs remind you of the rooms in the walk, fireplaces remember your mind to speech,

that casual leaning that was once a moment before the zipper became the teach,

to know that my efforts are so difficult to wade I halt for I must track backwards for dust.

I bring to the lather of all the browse the honest duty of my housed on this title blog,

the secret is choice And for the most part the average party does make that choice,

it is usually silence with broom that sweeps the included under the table,

for out of sight is out of mind until one is able to put not back anything on the table,

but strip the room of the sorted covers and begin to scrub down the mold that carries this floor.

The state of being buried for so long causes ................. however Onward Forward is my march,

trooping for the ones I know that are behind me trying to grow-up, move on and not die,

I write so that it does not take a lifetime to grip this reality but quite possibly only one post to decide,

to live and not commit suicide.

One Word At A Time Does Rhyme