I hate rhyme… LOVE BIRD: Me Myself and Irene The sublime feeling of the dime… Like wind chime… Or a humming bird ready to shine… Almost like a fine wine… Of something so define… That only the soul itself can find… On-going like a shitty day in rewind… Rain, on a flower that only a Rose can twine… And every Rose has its thorn… Like a mission, and orders…I’m sworn… My bones pained, My flesh torn… My heart lost in desire, the flame It Burns… And as the story tells… Thick Page A turn… Another ink drop on An Angel’s Wing… Lost in Heaven, a Note I sing… For just one poor soul… Another lost missing thing… And yes… One, can feel the lost and mis deray… Or one can realize tomorrow is another day… Yes the clouds are dark and the shower of Gods spray… But just know the ones you love stand behind every sunray… Family is molded like clay… And at peace our heads lay… I’m tired God… Your own personal lightning rod… My Anger… My Pride… Is it the ass of a Devil tied to my side… Is it the time… The day… The mist of mystery… Or is it divinity in its own personal ministry… And as we catch the subject… What is Chivelry… Am I a Knight or the old belief… Knife to Shef for the calvery… Is it the salary… Third eye on the power of Me… Take account of thee… It’s not a prophecy… It’s the soul… for soul… Poor fool, in school… Learning and observing… Absorbing… Tuning to sound… Like hard snap to the snare sound… It’s not majik, yet I astound… God, is it a gift? I ask permission… Am I allowed?