Wednesday, February 27, 2013

unhaps materialist

When I'm unhappy I become more materialistic.  Judgmental, the scales are weighted and the balancing commences.

The tables are on, I try to keep the seesaw on my side.
The air will not burn, if we do not turn up the ground.
There's honest a right, to start a legacy raising a tide.
There's so many now, the tides are floating us upside down.

Ago in a past life, when I was a tree, I hope I made good shade, i hope i helped breathe.
Today in my spaceship, i want to meet me, the way that i once was, a house for the leaves.
tohelpme breathe.

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