another forgotten story

for you and yours:

Your face contorts as you spit sour reverb,
Eminating in your facecious threats of promise.
Written lies exist as laws to follow,
Instead of verbal truths to grow and blossom.
The weak witted times are over,
The fish swim faster as they train new endeavors boldly;
Seeking happiness,
Possessing vengeance,
Spewing tacit recourse,
Empowered by new fragrance,
Ending in embellishment.

You may find me here,
Betwixt lost pages of solid memories;
You may find me there,
Underneath some old lover new;
You may find me where I stand,
I will speak to you my truth;
Wherever you may find me,
Love will reach for you.