Carrying on.

Carrying on.

Avoid the devoid thematic issues

Entrust the truant

To conform to every waking step he’s making nuisance

Waking fuses

Lit to elicit the tip of spit

That sits on the tip of the tongue depressing sentences

Run,

Through the mind, all the time, a down syndrome

A palindrome wind blown

That his prescriptive lens shown

The cone of where he’d been droned

Alone like that was him grown

Alone and that was it so

He lonely sat and went on

And on but didn’t live on

And on because the fits wrong.

He missed the date to make the date arrive

And didn’t try

To see if he could be on time to make his mind up

Satisfied

He made his mind up.

Had to try. But Yoda said it best

The pot is pissing clock is ticking everything to bed

But he never ever slept

What was dreamt inside the head

Was then realized, personified, and what he did instead

Was the next to be the next, what was lying up ahead

Was a truth he didn’t hide from just to hide himself from stress