If they could read my mind I would be a dead meat.
I'm stuffed of nos, more than any yeses.
Frowning is captivating.
I barely know which is present.
I rarely glow the past.
Then came the soul asking the body,
"What is it like to have snow in the summer?"
Vacuous.
Too many times spent thinking of the possibilities.
What if I accomplished those and missing these?
What if people speak hyperbolas,
who would be more annoying?
What if I never know this,
will I be even better?
What if I get to choose,
to grant or to decline this life?
And then I make this pity soul think again
On what purpose shall you deny these precious?
Yesterday is done.
Tomorrow is promised to no one.
Build the bridge because the fall is going to flow.
...