I’m in love with all these things I’m not smart enough to be not smart enough to see not smart enough to think, is the thought and thinking intelligence or an attitude a way of being? Life is so fleeting yet the hours here crawl, the sun sails high and I wonder why oh why can’t the night take hold just yet, pen and finger tips told all the rest, I wanna feel I wanna be I wanna make, words as a way of life I give them mine and I am theirs. Punctuate the places with peppered bits of flair, draw their eyeballs in until they’re purged of every care, their senses trickle and though they’re fickle I hope to alleviate their time, just gotta get it down get it out and be well on my way, there aren’t enough hours in the day so I guess I’ll just have to be tired and true until I can pretend though not pretentiously that I am all those things I think and completely fail to understand.