Ginseng pours on my spoon.
I am too late to love
and soon I yearn to learn
new ways to move.

But all the liquids everyday
are boiling, boil with me.
And happiness is still a side door
and falling down the chimney.

Healthy angel snow flake
patterns batter me but still
I cannot break from the
sweet notion I am ill.

And when I watch it fall against the door in drunken frenzy.
It will be my faith you see - and not only my envy.
For if ever I would want to stay awake,
you could have both my eyes to take.

And drenched in seven year splendor,
rejoice with me that years
are wet with fear and dripping
worse now, that is clear.

And when you see reflections
maybe you will see behind you
like you used to see with me
and let those shadows go right through.

But if you want to dwell on corners ordering the mortar fire
slaves to stiff and quick desire, I'll behave, my skin so rye or
let you walk away just let me drop off all these horrors at your door -
peace won't let me sleep no more.

Don't regret a syllable.
A life made so unlivable.
But you'll know in awhile,
and maybe even smile.
Either way I guess that it's okay to be beguiled.
Once in awhile.

Nice write Pancakes.

good one.

And when you see reflections
maybe you will see behind you.

And here I DO....thanks, interesting write!!! Nicely done.

Very interesting and good write.

So rich with imagery.

really nice piece...well done