A glass less, than a glass less tip toeing

A glass less, than a glass less tip toeing
A space full of walls, noise, drunk
Trying to intervene the soft political coincidence
Intrigued the knocking at the door,
Laugh around the round table,
Kill yourself before you lose.
Overcoming one conversation, to make conversation the one
Bankrupt fidelity in so many masters of choice,
Less there is, to drink some more.
Brown finger tips, listening to mystery;
Expression id heavy lifting, not Olympic cchouce
Tell somebody else, who listens all that poetry
Try, bear light colliding only
In the eyes gazing so passionately in blues
Have been taught in life, glass reaches no bottom,
Lyrically selecting apocalyptic beginnings,
As if nothing can so as desired,
With low estimated underground dance
Or wishes singing tall for moments.
Blisters upon thoughts rubbing walls of four
Night has come very, very silently
With a drop of sunset on horizon.
Pissed and off face hanging, pretending;
Gravity doesn’t exist in reality,
In a pen scratching sound
Telling self drainage is for decoration
Although, frankly, not to mention
Old broken boat sinks only
For the sake of matter.
Sea bird wings the life
With a loss of moment, when thy blinking
All the time across the tails of legends
Sweet direction come alas, all saint
Substantially, gazer gazed amazed.
Elders lived, they survive, at least or to extent, illusive
And the choices that are always correct
They really do care about the youth.
A glass less, than a glass less tip toeing.

 

-albatross.