I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through
Monday, February 12, 2018
Outlook uncertain, ask again later
Work (both jobs, and home chores) have been a bear. Nothing yet to post (because not much read in the past few days). And I don't even have a kitten photo for you. Sorry.
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