This life is not mine
I do not belong in this bracket of time
There is no escape
No emotional release
Mouths talk filth
All the slops of their minds
re-arranged and neatly packed
yet the same old lies
Where will my fancy take refuge?
There's so much to explore in life
silent meadows, beautiful pastures
a solitude so serene
I want to walk between strange delicate flowers
and see open plains
let my self roam, write poetry
and for once really live in the moment
At leisure, to explore your form
To climb the slopes of your mind
Lay you down in English countryside
And what feels like solstice can simply never be
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