Timing

A calm wind passes just below the hard wood floors and finds solace in the deepest parts of a mind that wonders and can’t seem to get in the flow of reality. Warm, orange hues hit the surface of a tired mind one that can’t seem to get through the façade which faces me every second of every day. Caution is held back as the moments I once thought were right seem to linger and want to fall off the jagged cliffs that make it hard to think. The blades of grass that simmer in the summer heat have hit my toes at odd periods of time when pain is elevated and sensitive when the stars seem to loose there touch. Skies mourn and weep with joy at the systematic way things are. Why can’t I just be a common man in a common reality? Nothing new or outrageous just the way I was brought up. Turn the page, the things don’t seem to be the same, am I crazy or am I just going down the same road many travel. A constant burn is situated at the belly of the beast and I can’t seem to see the way we are corrupted and misleaded, but I know for sure that the timing is not right.