I dream in hieroglyphicsand ink the walls of caves; eschew the honorifics, the accolades, the raves. It's all for fun, and all for free- I'll never make a buck. Matter of fact, I'm in the hole, but still I run amok.
I have threads, vignettes. Some fleshed out. Others at loose ends. This unseemly train has lost its brakes- can't stop at ancient stations. Those sad confreres are left stranded, waving. *** image credit: https://pixabay.com/users/sjb3949-533112/
Being too-long hesitantto mount the stepsmakes one grow slipper-bound,complacent in regret's denial.Greenish in huefrom watching the passers-by take to flight. *** Image: https://pixabay.com/users/geralt-9301/