Wrote this stuff when I did speed a couple days ago for my first time. Opium and weed in the same day, haha... I couldn't sleep, and this was the result... From Failure Arises Resentment A century or more ago, Miss Flo stepped off the shore. Miss Flo was never seen again. She was maker of tears, For years and then years, Deep inside; Beneath the blue sea. In old days, the water grew quiet. Waves ceased to crash, As if in mourning. Oh every day, Second day, Monday, December, Her friends of the depths would visit, Always bearing hot tea (A rare commodity in the sea), Or little bits of coral reef, Hung sweetly from old fishing line; Glammor but not beauty. The next bit kind of reminds me of a buddhist philosophy combined with something lulu lemon would use to advertise: You Are All, But All is What You Take. Hence, YOU TAKE yourself, for a ride, Away from yourself, and cannot see your nature. LET GO, Discover yourself.
