Nevermind me, I’m merely rowing through in my crack ridden off green canoe, row, rowing my canoe pass them, pass you. Sluggishly across still waters of my purposefully blue and green lagoon.
Sin, secrets, excuses rest with the salt at the bottom, unfiltered from reality, yet flowing with hope as to where I am heading? That is undecided.
The waters are listening, obedient, deceptive, the waters are not of me and I am not them.
Nevermind me , I’m merely rowing, trying to find a channel back to my own. Row, rowing in my crack ridden off green canoe pass the old boats.
I took to torn and tarnished places, seen the magnificent and picturesque. All of which I remember, the sweet smell of magnolia, the air caressing my lips as I gaze into a thick mist of expectation
Nevermind me and never mind them too, row, row, I’m just rowing my crack ridden canoe in this old fish bowl
Ceaser Mata
Ceaser Mata
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