Digging into the dusty depths of my memory To unearth some detail of sudden recall… Remembering where I put a thing I had years ago, and wondering if I should still have it after all this time. I think that If we kept things as long as we keep memories, Maybe we’d all have more …
A trap’s plight is not in its catch, but in its purpose… To engage and outwit; Without cunning, but with bait – Those in its clutches rarely aware of the coup until almost too late.
In quite mindless fashion, we’re often first to answer questions – and yet, last to question the answers.
I’m not an alcoholic, but I could’ve been because how easy it is to drench all my problems in wine, and forget them – But I always seem to take the hard roads.
Once, I wrote a poem that could’ve changed the world… If I could just remember the words, I could do it again. But it only lived briefly in my mind; I never write the good ones down.
Ninja; quiet stealth… Outcome, unexpected. Trappings – wealth. A spy of her own decry. The world never wooed me, But its potential Does.
I am spider – spinning theory [of] silken thread. My captures untrapped… My body of work, Untapped. And then there’s me; Masterful Outlier… …as yet, unmatched.
Try to play along But it’s exceedingly clear You’re not happy to have me And I’m not happy here.