Second guesses are twice wrong.
If you don’t like the music don’t write the song.
When a heart has a question the answer’s foregone.
A canvas stretched can’t mimic the dawn.
Too much thought can be a curse.
A little more can be a verse.
Half the time we’re half a sleep.
We feel safe in the dreams we peep.
100% per try comes once.
50/50 you’re a dunce.
Start from scratch, shoot for the moon.
You may miss but you’ll know soon.
Primal intuition on cave walls bear.
The futures instinct paints ones fear.
Healing begins with a wound.
Holes deepen when ballooned.
Time mends if to care.
Hearts beat if we dare.
Just a little exercise to see what I do,
I’m going the bathroom to write about poo.
I’ve fluffy white paper that floats from the wall.
And a sink nearby, in case I fall.
In a window with shutters I control the scene.
But the stench still oozes in-between.
There’s a mirror that magically hangs above.
It’s never quite straight, much like love.
The image’s the same no matter the tilt.
It tells no lies or feels no guilt.
I’ll wipe the smudges, the exercise through.
I passed the test but slipped in do.