William Tell mom told me to practice everyday at 5:00 after homework before dinner i did but couldn’t she hear the strings didn’t sing they whined in pain as if being tortured i was how could i explain i’d be no better with any bow
when push comes to shove you’re such a dick put on your boxing gloves go ahead take a swing at me if you’re that upset what pissed you off anyway it doesn’t matter you seem to be at a loss for words you just want to flail your arms in hope
darling i always had a feeling of not fitting in not being grander than others if anything i always felt rather small like the spider on the wall or perhaps the flea that no one could see yes i would easily be called the wall
in the woods captivating there is something entrancing being alone in the woods hearing every miniscule sound of nature comforting there is something soothing being alone in the woods feeling a great oneness with nature clarifying there is something illuminating being alone in the woods becoming one with
your story you told me a story once it unfolded with a perfect plan each page read the same even though the pages continued to turn to someone else it might be a bit absurd you laughed a little so did i making light of flowers that
nature’s gift unaccompanied forging ahead through the sweet-smelling thicket the sounds of silence your friend anxieties no longer exist resistance to change flows far oft in the distance the wind sings through the trees a lullaby made of reveries no longer a weary wanderer
