Good things never last, but the Great ones always will... So I thought quietly today.
The thick white mass above does not mean snow.
Nor does the pitch black slick below mean its the end.
Inside an envelope... the screaming, the confetti of a graceful disaster
While I dream about being shaken inside til I can
recognize what I'm really doing...
You though, are not wondering. You are the same somehow.
That is wonderful! Do you know just how wonderful?
But I cannot pretend I will be the same.
I wish I could. I hurt trying to be the same...
Its not becoming continuous, I wish so badly I was constant.
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