yes indeed, there are words always waiting to be written.
at the present moment, I am content with the emotion
of being smitten.
In the midst of this dance through a cause such as romance,
I find mysef surrounded by confusion, an intrusion to the
serenity of my thoughtless illusions.

With wasted efforts, I attempt to live the cliche' of this day to day,
ignore the hearsay, pretend everything will eventually, if not
quickly turn out satisfactory.
These fruitless thoughts, accompanied by self-doubts will result
in misery to the end of my life expectancy.

What a bunch of garbage to try and salvage such a fast paced
mind of this heathen savage.
I'm on the ledge, toying with the idea of plunging over the edge,
hoping with all hopes, the final destructive fall just might end it all.

Yes, there are always words waiting to be written, but at least
my tongue is bitten, long enough so my words will not be spoken,
saving my last breath for when my spirit can no longer be broken.