the birds of leaving call to us,
yet here we stand
endowed with the fear of flight.
Overland...
the winds of change consume the land
while we remain
in the shadow of summers now past
When all the leaves have fallen
and turned to dust,
will we remain
entrenched within our ways?
Indifference...
the plague what moves throughout this land.
Omen signs
in the shapes of things to come.
Tomorrow's child is the only child;
tomorrow's child is the only child.
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NOTHING IN PARTICULAR
There's a fine line between being creative and being crazy.
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