inside i'm no scribe can't hide monotonous diatribe no windowed world view just a faded watercolour of shifting hues watching grey's melt into blues
Better half could better see A better you, to better me You are my reason to try The only one to make me cry Better still and best of all A better friend to break my fall Love speaks exactly what it see's Without that loves just fantasy
Image by Pantalanium
I like the morning The path untrodden and the flag firmly furled They clean the detritus of the night before When I hid behind my hotel room door The wilderland forged from clay and sand Fresh foliage from a spray can Gives up it's starting role as, The bustle steals my quiet stroll
Apparently I'm the Muffin Man I don't live on Drury Lane But when faced with mounds of baked goods I choose the muffin...again Apparently I'm the Muffin Man I'm not a fan of change So when there are no muffins It causes me some strain I know that I'm the Muffin Man And what you might not see I find a comfort in consistency That soothes anxiety.