February 2, 2011
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Nothing but a switch
Between the stew of the witch
Darts at my eyes with a glow
Moving of the rivers flow
Feeling like theirs no given stitch

We live each day by a given pitch
We live breath, and we go through with a row
Step inside and feel upon the plow
Realization kicks in

Thinking generation are slow
To form the hand of a fast throw
Searching through a ditch
With nothing but an itch
Hope is the only way you won't flinch
The guy held in is mitch
Realization kicks in

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