The music notes hit a chord.
I’m floored, as
The tulips grow from the core.
I’m sure,
That foolish growth is quite a bore.
Unless, one reflects since he was four.
That, the world is more than just something that is yours.
We share,
This planet that we,
Should all care,
I fear that if you don’t then,
You scare,
Those that dream large.
Humanity is one, a collective.
I’m protective, of a beautiful planet.
Like cubicles,
Stand in it…
Don’t stand by it…
No matter how monotonous.
You must see grey and wear it.
You must see day,
And not fear it,
Because one may famish,
And that would be outlandish…

I renounce then, with you;
Our romance have become complex.
And I see the world a bit higher,
As I am steadying out the abstracts in and of you…

What to do, but rely on poetic claims and clings…

Queen and King Tings,
Hiphop etc, we are more than hip than what those stars that faint sing;
We are more than anything, that seems like everything.
And in my heavy brain, it seems that you are all that runs in it like faint screams or better yet, gleaming streams…