hill person

In the grand scheme of things

We are  super teeny tiny,

A drift on a leaf

Amongst the waves and debris

Like the bubbly sinks and wholes and rises falls

Romanising about hot coffee I would love right now.

the coffee grinds and aroma how I could kill

Cause and effect

Happy chemicals to break the damns in wet eyes

Would we lose all hope if the coffee ceases to flow.

This power shortage is fucking not helping.. my brain is about to choose to explode.

Just like the puppeteer
massive amount bounding water streaming, short sheeting

Presenting capitulating citizens hopes dreams and minds,

Lives are picketing, protesting, fuelling rage a life for more while giving less

Rocketing through you with a hand shack argument of dismantle of demise.

This one person who lives up my hill
she screams like an animal
her brain must be broken beyond all comprehension

I sure would love to give her the question that she needs find the speech to answer.

To ask and light the warmth beneath the rapid fire for her exchange

To gather what collides

her disquiet is wrenching and inhuman to hear.

If house was a real man. And Hulk was near. I would put them on task, her case STAT.
Because even though she doesn’t sound human currently,
juxtaposition to syntax actually,
perhaps coffee and a hug could help,
a high five,
Locate someone who knows conditions of that nature, dilute, rectify or put her out of her misery.

Because her life I hope is worth more then what you seem to have labelled it.
I am sure she is in favour of a more flavoursome one too.
so please take care of the ones you love and pass a long a hot coffee if you can.

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