Chitter chatter is the melody to an eight hour shift that reaks of perservatives and disorganization. The prior hours were graced with a field of sunshine with stems.
Their beauty stiffled with bright summer sweetness.
Change of scenery within abandoned explorations as fear took excitement's hand and followed closely behing the unknown.
The silence was pertruded with only a flash and the paint was chipped and dust consumed the cracks.
The possibile thoughts of what was once before exploded the mind pretty perfusley.
Catching the breeze against the highway towards reality made my hair blow less radiantly.
The way a day is caputured depends on the light that surrounds it.
The beauty of what was seen that bright day made the melody of mundane casualties prepetually possible.
1 comment:
You're exploding with talent and I wish you would run with it.
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