Paraphrased the message that I'm toting with a phalanx of multitudinal irresponsibility so monstrous that I panic, when I smell the roses thinking that the scent is ever looming when realizing it's just my thoughts that are the drums I can hear booming. It's my heart that I do follow when I'm walking the straight line, it's my mind that throws me off course like a field laden with land mines. Blowing up the situation proportionally outta whack, giving me ideas without taking any flack. Paraphrased is the message hope you're getting what I say, I may not have time tomorrow so I'm telling you today.
When the time is right ready read on my squamish thoughts everything I have I own, nothing I have I haven't bought. Materialistic I think not, disposition is a curfew putting limits on things left without a purse to hold any personal pursuit. Curses is the thought that thunders through the thicket with a thrust. Leaving no room for the thirsty to be parched from all the dust. Building and destroying are the ideologies ingrained in the back of our minds, intercepted by ours brains. I just want to build a castle whilst destroying all the grass in the plot of land I need to take a hassle off the past.
Cryptozoic I have hidden, yet in plain sight I am just kidden, underneath a where is waldo's where you'll find the place I'm sitting. Look around, open your eyes, I'm over clothed with no disguise, you'll never see me cause I'm nothing that you're needing to realize. Exploration is ubiquitous since the day your breathing did increase. Contemplation is thing that makes you think your thought has ceased, yet it keeps you on your toes, if that is to say the least, if you eat an entire pizza can it be considered a feast?
A taste of my lacquer inlaid with some lipsmackers make your lips and tongue swell up like your face is a disaster. Wanna pull up in a limo made from lemon peels and cheese, so I can crumple up the
whole thing when I'm angered like the sea, the emotions like a volatile wave of iridescence within or without the whole thing can repress or reflect impressions. As ducks waddle away, oblivious to the world, would we be a better peoples if we live just like the squirrels? Could we be a letter steeper if our tongues wouldn't curl?
What exactly is the message that I portray in this thought? I don't think its about life, or things that can be bought, I don't think it has to do with dust or curses or brains. I do think it's lacquered with slippery claims. What is it you take when you finish the read, could it be that I'm squamish, contemplate that indeed.
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