What can a man alane do?
What can he say? But company costs.
Not dollars nor cents. But recompense.
The cost is oftain high and makes nai sense.
If you think I've made errors it's Scots not that I'm dense.

In my mind, reality doesn't follow a strait narative.
I get lost sometimes. Spychogenic fugue.
My mind is like a dog, it obeys me sometimes
and others, it get out of the fence and misbehaves.

Let us go forward quietly each on his own path,
forever making for the light,
and in the knowledge that we are as others are and that others are as we are
and that it is right to love one another in the best possible way,
believing all things , hoping for all things and enduring all things,
and never failing. And not being too troubled by our weaknesses,
for even he who has none, has one weakness, namely that he has none,
and anyone who believes himself to be consummately wise would do well to be foolish all over again.

The springs of Autumn give way to the wings of Winter.

Where is the coin that doesn't fit the ruse?
Shall it be given to those with none?
Recluses are in joint gatherings to stumble upon an unknown truth.
There is a way to walk away, to get to the other side, leaving yourself behind.
In my feelings a deeper thought awakens a blue sky of sapphire and forgotten dreams.
I hope at least one other person gets something from what I write.
Hoping what I say makes some sort of sense.
Extremely vivid dying dreams, I hope to God I can see what it means.
We are surrounded by poetry on all sides, but putting it on paper is, alas,
not as readily done as looking at it.