mr robot

floetry because to call it prose or poetry is limiting the expression and i wouldnee want to give the impression that this is merely just some kind of first love of mine because it's all i have for my time to write to shell out to invest in some kind of vested interest and vibe with words and rhymes and at the same moment in this ending yet eternal bending mess we call life and death and yes it's about l*ve again even though i've leaned on and learned how little i have to give my palms are writ large in lines between them little notes of a past who knows if there's that much truth to reading hands face up when we say we know an area like the back of those which is what i wish to explain but pained as i am to reveal any more of this story his story hit and miss story repeating old verbal treatise my tresses growing again knowing that my hair is more shaggy dog's glory than a lovely mane no lying here staring glumly into this blue lit space on screen not a star or sheen some thing even more incredible to believe as fact and fiction blur berenstained layzboyz reclining on this world like a toy globe failed by those who really ought to know better as they think they are ours older not wiser by all accounts so i flout language churning and yearning to create new words a flought i found is a fleeting thought no sound so why dont we speak up create a new place that looks like this where fairness comes first and no more of your old worst ideas as we evolve from being what we were to what we imagine we could be it's that simple if you wish it the final lesson oh hello is a how'd you do it?