Random Razzle Tazzle

More random poem(s) or boredness

The minds they weaver

The fingers they tingle

While the things we keep can not be tamed

The things we weep can not be flamed

The minds go on to better places

While the fingers stay to hold the hurt

Our troubles can not be proved

Along with the sorrows that float

Our minds become an ocean 

While our fingers become the boat

To sail that which should not be sailed alone

But we tend to sail afloat with the minds that can not be aboard











Mingle the hurt make it stop

Hold true to yourself and help it overlap

Whenever you are down

Get back up and never give in









I do not like big shopping malls nor crowded halls

but I love my cooped up room with covered floors

And I love my music as it flows deep within my ears to

forever hear what the musicians has to say

I am me with some quirks but I will forever and always be as they say a loner