The sun shreiks with shame and the moon is to blame. The moon writhes with mistakes and the sun's heart aches. The sun is one with the moon--and the moon one with the sun. Together, intertwining, can't stop. Their stars beat, bop, bop. Dancing in the sky, everything flying by. The moon feels it--the sun feels it, too. You are me and I am you. Individuality; what does it really mean? All these things unheard, all these things unseen. Acceptance seems to be a thing of its own kind. Could we, if we wanted to, simply rewind? Or is the past too much of our selves? Could we leave it on the shelves? Maybe pick it up every once in a while? Run around life--each year worth a mile? We couldn't ever do that, though. We can't let our lives slow. What use is it to have a hatred for one another? Whatever happened to blood brothers? Keep the peace and keep it forever. Let it travel with you on all your endeavours.
November 12, 2008