For that is it, right?
Like that term
I mean, really, right?
I know, right?
We all need a place to believe …
~
A walk in the park they said when the night began
And everything afterward became, well
Unforgettable
The moment’s passion suddenly spoke out
To suggest it was all a travesty
A generalized cliché of notions
That spoke of ideals and the disquieted rumors
~
Each step in the right direction
Seems halted, twisted
The mind becomes suggestive of a cylinder
Missing the point
Always a step off
No rhythm to speak of except
The notion that this is all there really is
~
And all the effort to become recognized
Seems like a simple suggestive hurdle
On top of a mountain of bullshit
Once again,
Lost in the shuffle,
Wondering and curious about the next
Game,
That is a riddle in some circles
What you might call a prize or fortune
I’ll probably negate as being over-stated
What Crosses My Mind 
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