Bleak Mind View

The Line

Today
I choose to tell you the truth
And my decision is influenced
By the meticulous presence of choice
Perchance well thought out

I am but a pencil pusher
Ribald from the others

But as I squeeze words into lines
My trail of thought sanctimonuously improves
And freedom is nascent

Though I am the Acrobat
An everyman
And not the flea
I pace the line pavlovian risk

I'd like to fly
But that would be a lie
Told by a resilient soul

I sashay on the periphery
Observing chronology's steady flow
And it's powerful resistance to any force
Unexpadited as it were

Bright colors
Unappreciative of the idiosyncratic spectrum

Magnificent, isn't it?
The inauspicious lack of nature's offset

We create lifelines
Or cut them short

I am still inchoate
As a canvas is nothing
Incomplete;
Without the artist's final stroke.