Scowled sail the spirit so goes too timid
Timid the cognition is hyped down with the worries of life
Life in a wild wilderness like this there is nowhere nothing has white togs
Cos all we have in a world like this is crimson clear n' nothing more:
Life is a cassava plantation where here you might harvest plenitude piassava to the chagrin;
May the sun show pity
Pity
Pity the sun shows it shines what it can show we curse the same show it can show
Another angry farmer now thank Zeus for his cassava needs sunshine to mature you know...
Breeze is needed but in Africus here no snow falls, no snow games only a fictitious tale with no scientific signature
Only in our tele sets - American christmas video songs spew better as a quiet quintessence
Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle all the way, Oh! what fun is...
The rain that clings cliffs of the kids bodies some criticise in the far east [hissings] who bellow his attentions.
What we don't understand we are afraid of
But what we understand we belittle, manipulate n' play for some golf ball a puff-puff
What is going to happen tomorrow?
Tomorrow is a jester
A jockey joker that laughs out loud calling us big tomfools
Perhaps, tomorrow has no mouth to laugh but a mute man shaking his head always,
He wants to tell us about himself with his heart but none won't but listen with his hat:
We watch with the eyes n' always need to hear with the ears
Feel with the skins
If tomorrow can worries us this far
Yesterday giving us plights we are trying to solve this far
Today is not existing then, for this far
He has no responsibility, today is the hawser with some stint curve this far
He holds the past and the future like a moth's wings this far.
The past we recollect but the future is our conundrum come this far.
Let the morrow
Worry about himself
May every man leave for now
But pass the past n' preach I leave for goodness; practise this with the spirit couches
Worry too much about life n' waste away like nostril's mucous
But but me no buts, everything ends tomorrow
You know...?
#jodekss...