And here we are again.
Fumble for the elusive, silent blue sparks
Filtering through the layers of mediocre Wednesdays
-the impossible viscosity is the fault of my own.
Choking under the cold whispers of complacency
And I am gently implying to my Caucasian self to
Take. .around.
But the burns of ambition do not produce enough pain
To lift me out of these mellow pools of idealism.