Stilts Not Included

I don’t think that word means what you think it means “stilts” but anyway the way some women are elevated, the way some men elevate themselves to be worthy sadly. Stilts Not Included… cause’s she so high above me, they all are, to be honest

When all that need be built
was not the wheel reinvented,
but gravity itself circumvented
something so unprecedented
like teaching a man to fly
Though once it was the biggest castle
a mountain’s hassle
there be dragons here, a battle
hands to hilts

Troy or Greece, or some ilk
we fought, we made the sun divine
Jesus enshrined, we signed
papers, take pills for more time
and don’t we all know why
Bone Thugs, that’s why I stay high
Can’t look her in the eye
So I wish on every star in the sky
just so the world can tilt

the trees wilt
autumn leaves
fall and I finally believe
what so many men strived to achieve?
Jokes on us *sigh*
That we have climbed and grown enough
knowing we must
fall, land, or ask what’s up
To the pretty girl, no escaping our guilt

Being Men

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Lesson 041 ~Poking, Prodding, Pampering, Pushing~

Today’s episode of Easy Street is brought to you by the letter “P”, there are plenty of good words that start with P but what about pain or better the prevention of pain if you’re my dog. Poking, Prodding, Pampering, Pushing

 

Friday, August 11, 2017

Lesson 041 ~Poking, Prodding, Pampering, Pushing~

Hey Lady Lu,
No Fear, I wish I could say no humiliation, no abandonment issues, no new taxes and the like but that would be wishful thinking wouldn’t it? Not the way most people look at a trip to the doctor or a visit to the groomers but Braxton and I will just have to suck it up, won’t we?

“If you’re not my dog, my girl, or looking to be, don’t touch me” Me

Something I have always wanted to say at work if I was ever pushed to do so and speaking of which nobody is pushing me to the eye doctor, and Braxton could live his life as always but here we go. Already I have to confirm the appointments and already the anxiety is getting to me but other than my eyes, a trip to another doctor just isn’t in the cards. I think child me knew more than adult me, I mean who actually pays to be tortured; how lucky I am that I don’t enjoy in pain, my pain.

Braxton if anything is a big baby but I can’t help but be worried about him, we’ve nearly survived another year and now I want to trust him to somebody else, honestly, it’s just a spa treatment really. Is that how it works, he makes me mad enough and I send him on an all-expenses paid vacation, what’s going to happen when I finally meet the right woman. Do we really need to talk about what happens with women and when I get upset, seriously for the last few days it has been all about Ms. Seasons, in another life I would have been fired?

Please don’t get fired, luckily she is far, far away but work has turned into a dangerous place, new people coming in and people who don’t entirely piss me off quitting and getting canned. So yeah Luna no pampering for me and “The Day” is coming but before that, a friend’s birthday, and there is this hustle of mine, so far twenty bucks but that’s a far cry from what’s need in my writing friend.

“Define Economics.

Economics is a science that deals with the production, distribution, and consumption of commodities.

Translation?

Dig first, money later.” Abbe Faria, Edmond Dantes, The Count of Monte Cristo

Isn’t it strange that it wasn’t the money at all that first provoked me, pushed me, pained me, Lady Lu, my motivations, payback, pain, and pussy… I know my language.

When I cried out to you more than a month ago it was the pain I found unbearable and I kept writing to sedate it, probably more so now but then there is hope Luna. I’d like to think hope that I could have a better life and again while I won’t completely ignore profit I was mad as Hell, I prepared myself for a war that would never come. She blocked me off of everything, wrote me off like others… far more disturbing and while she couldn’t care at all I write because… I want success and in having something that succeeds her, I have my payback, my glory.

“Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies.” – Andy Dufresne, The Shawshank Redemption (1994)

Which brings me to pain again, physically I am sore, my eyes hurt some, I would be lost without my glasses and the only reason I must be so cautious is for Braxton’s sake. When it comes to other people, allow me to sound like a psycho but if I don’t like you death or think you’re ugly death is certain, it’s those I care for, those I find the most beautiful that I hurt the most; a part of being a sadist, okay back to your original program Luna.

Now “Indiana Gone” and I talk about what a man will do for a woman and yes I have done plenty in the name of attraction and madness, it’s biology as always. I dream that I am a man that will do the impossible you know, become all Man of La Mancha with it but you saw what that guy was like; anyway, while I am a sadist for one reason I am a dominant for the other. I must sound so crazy… I get off on bondage, on command, on control, okay one of these days we’re going to have a huge BDSM discussion.

Anyway, payback, pain, pussy, why not link all three into one, power, and when you go to the doctor you’re giving your life, your power, to someone else, submission Luna and I hate my own.

“Lust is to the other passions what the nervous fluid is to life; it supports them all, lends strength to them all ambition, cruelty, avarice, revenge, are all founded on lust.”
― Marquis de Sade

Luna, I hate being poked and prodded for the answers I should have and don’t, I hate pretenders and those who attempt to placate me, I even hate being pampered to a certain degree, teased. Braxton is surely his father’s son because he hates being poked and prodded for bugs or his health, and don’t get me started on the pampering unless life was one big bed in the sunlight with a shady spot, surrounded by meat and I was stuck with him for life.

I hate being pushed to the limit, and as many times as I say I have hit rock bottom, it seems that push still has me falling and it’s a long way down. Doing this Luna is an act of pushing myself and I don’t know where I’m going but something tells me that one day it won’t be vice constantly pushing me forward. Oh my cough *women* cough, I just mean I’ll look forward to my work rather than living in dread of truths I might set free occasionally.

Vi Veri Veniversum Vivus Vici.
By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe. – V for Vendetta

Ignorance is bliss they say and Braxton has no idea he has an appointment and I hate lying to the little guy, secrets are lies, I really have to get back to reading. As flattered as I am by authors wanting me to read their works and by being a part of an erotic reading club there is still pressure. My whole damn life I feel like I’m under pressure and we know time is running out because I always have Project Alamo on standby.

So what have we learned today other than this lesson was brought to you by the letter “P’ and I may be getting a bit presumptuous, a bit more pathetic, or hell more powerful perhaps? What I have learned is peace can only be found with absolute power, or at the dentist office (he’s got the good drugs) or when you’re not thinking with a certain part of your anatomy just Poking, Prodding, Pampering, Pushing.

“And there, my dear Fio, you make one of Womankind’s greatest mistakes: Falling in love with a man’s potential. We so rarely share the same view of it, and even more rarely care to achieve it. Stop pining for the man you think I could be — and take a good, long, hard look at the one I am.”
― by Karen Marie Moning, Darkfever

Weatherman Whether

Just ask your weatherman, that was a dream once upon a time and so was being a pilot during my days in the Navy, but my eyes didn’t have the right stuff, oh I didn’t mention being an astronaut either. “Weatherman Whether”, some men have taller dreams

Whether man was meant to predict
the weather, he tries,
why he looks to the skies
becoming blind to it
As with God himself, he could confer
and know in a phone call
where he takes her, he takes her

or such is the nature of man, to rule,
so some men become wise,
still, others will buy the lie,
a one-way ticket is that of a fool.
Only he becomes so sure
that he would run, walk, or crawl
he goes, he takes her, he takes her

supposing he was like Superman himself
for he succeeds, he flies
like a leaf on the wind, surprise
watch how he soars, and there is nowhere else
He makes her a jet setter
Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall
while he takes her, he takes her

far, farther, so amazingly far
autumn leaves, return, apologize
how, when it must be a mile high
An unreachable star,
dream deferred
Yet I will stand tall
knowing he takes her, he takes her

Above It All

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Lesson 040 ~Do Better Next Time~

Tell me you’ll do better next time and I’ll believe you, almost makes me crack up and I believe you or I believe in you is a story for another time. Do Better Next Time, if such a time does come?

Thursday, August 10, 2017

Lesson 040 ~Do Better Next Time~

Hey Lady Lu,
No Fear, I’ll do better next time, you know one of these days I’m going to make a list of the words and phrases I hate the most in the English language but today it’s these four simple words. You know you only get one chance at a first impression and today I think I blew one, okay two, probably a few more I wasn’t that observant.

“I’ll do better next time.

German.

I’ll do better next time.

Italian.

I’ll do better next time.

Spanish.

Spanish.

Did you really want me to snap your neck?” Hanna (2011)

I’m still thinking with that old world mentality that I’m not sure I’ll even see tomorrow so why bother doing my best, even when it comes to you Lady Lu, when will I see you again or I’ll do better next time. Ironically isn’t that why I should try my best because it’s with this I’ll be remembered; give me a reason to stay here, with all my work I don’t want my parents getting rich off me at some point. Another reason not to mince words and say whatever I feel… yeah, I’m afraid.

Maybe I’m just an idiot you know, I mean however are you supposed to introduce yourself to someone when you don’t really know yourself. That’s no secret, it’s just I like to think I know parts of myself, the gross parts according to some, yet another reason I hate looking in the mirror, hell I didn’t know who I would meet today. Isn’t everybody in the same boat when that comes to me, you know better than anyone my friend.

Isn’t that what I’m always talking about, evolving and like any mutant this is not always welcome and it can be a far within as easily as a fight without but once you make that first impression… Well I think everything else comes off as an impersonation but then again at least I’m honest, a bad type of honest sadly.
“And I doubt you’ve ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you… I don’t see an intelligent, confident man… I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you’re a genius, Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you.” Good Will Hunting

Speaking of honesty do you know how many times I have rehearsed my tirade for my coworkers only to say nothing at all when the time comes. Hell in a way it’s good to know I’m not alone in this, I’ll do better next time when it comes to working.

At the rate things are going at work I will have plenty of opportunities to have a first impression and I will have some people so confused; I’m not much of a trainer in the day job aspect. Going back to the dirty I could tell you exactly what I want who I am but even role play might be a symptom of something, maybe, you think? With the first impressions maybe I should go wreck a few more across the board, it might help me get over the last impression I gave Ms. Seasons.

You should have seen me this morning Luna, I should have seen myself but I felt that overwhelming dread, just like when there was all that trouble with “Senseless” for days on end I was just stomping hard as if I could crush the memory, caveman. I wonder what sort of impression I give off to animals, these days I’m so scared as to how Braxton sees me. Here’s a start, I see myself as his father, no ifs, and, or buts, only if I am anything like my father I’m pretty screwed; these final impressions can be pretty bad.

Not that Braxton is going anywhere of course except to the groomers, I still wonder how the people at PetSmart see me, I mean no one wants to be looked at as the negligent parent. With how many ticks they have pulled off of him, what do I think about, I’ll do better next time but sometimes we don’t have the luxury of a next time, do it right first.

“Your “best”! Losers always whine about their best. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen.” John Mason, The Rock

How about we forget about meeting people and just think about the general everyday interaction, for example, this guy I saw who helped these women in Walmart. What about how hard it is to remember all these things I’ve been trying to teach myself and put them together into something that passes for a human.

I’m not so upset about the store because of those women, I saw were of no interest to me but I do like to think of myself as a gentleman, look at that, dog dad, gentleman, things that nobody gets from me the first time around. Anyway so this guy, old guy helps these women with a big carton of water, I just had to admit that the man has class, or maybe I’m digging too deep into this. Who knows if they’ll ever meet again but the fact is, how do you think they saw this guy if I was so impressed with him?

To this day I can tell you about the first brunette that ever got to me and after her, well there has never been any other type of girl for me. Was it simply the look of her, her kindness, her voice, her eyes, I mean everything and nothing, so you don’t have to ask me why it hurt so much, by comparison, Ms. Seasons was… anyway, this first brunette back in junior college nearly got me kicked out of school. The more things change, and our final impressions of each other, what she thought of me, I honestly don’t want to remember because it will be so much worse.

So what have we learned today, repeating history, first impressions are everything and confusing to those around us but even worse when there is a battle within. Lady Lu, to be fair today was a bit easier but I’m not where I need to be, I’ll Do Better Next Time.

I Will Have No Fear

Fall Better

Maybe there was just too much Fall stuff at work today, maybe my yard is just in a mess, and it’s no secret that God and I have had our problems, I have problems with everyday people. Fall Better, personally I wish we could just go straight to winter

And it was better, twinkle, twinkle, little star
but a man put them in reach
with a son of a preacher man to teach,
that I should not go too far.
So God did endeavor

to make just the only one
morning star, Satan was his answer,
man-made cancer.
It was better when I just called it the sun
God will you make an effort,

like asking the leaves to stay on the trees,
only didn’t we all fall down?
Every color better, green and white, yellow and red, gold and brown
Autumn leaves…
Come on God why would you ever

I mean was this another dare
for me to curse you, curse her, say something?
Made in your image a caveman grunting,
can we not be better, here and there?
Because God you gave me the letters

before the pedestal or the big mouth
My voice before my courage
These feelings only to discourage
It was better without a doubt
Tell me, God, why I met her

You know maybe, just this once, I can do better…

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Lesson 039 ~Well, This All Whomps~

Don’t speak but is it really going to hurt, when, where, and how, now if I were rich and famous it would be in a really good way but for now it is only the fear of pain. Well, This All Whomps to feel such fear and dread doesn’t it, I should know yes?

Wednesday, August 9, 2017

Lesson 039 ~Well, This All Whomps~

Hey Lady Lu,
No fear but we need to talk… are there scarier words in the English language; to this day any time that simple phrase is uttered you might as well say, you’re in trouble now. These days I might as well be a student in “Etymology” I actually looked up the word for the study of words, learning.

I was writing another ‘masterpiece’ today, I’m still not learning but I write what I feel, anyway I was noticing the things I couldn’t say any more. Luna I have written the vilest things that you can imagine and you know a picture is worth a thousand words and my how I once showed off pictures. The strange thing is it has been the most innocent or the stupidest things that have gotten me into trouble and I fear that day is coming again soon.

As for today’s lesson, ‘T.J.’ Detweiler used the word “Whomps” to cover up a dirty word, I’m much the same because I’m all paranoid which is done when I’m posting our conversations all over the place. I think I told you that I use nicknames became while I don’t care about my name (a conversation for another time) I do have those I care for so I keep them out of the muck and mire but then of course I know some if not all of them are reading. Now I can’t even use the nickname because I know “she” might have eyes reading this as if that poem wasn’t revealing enough; I held back.

More times than I remember I thought that words would be the death of me and yet I seek salvation and meaning, it’s why I write books or will. Today though I’m trying to figure out how to talk about… whatever, when I’m becoming afraid of my words even printed.

I have a theory that if I can share my secrets in this place, then whatever would I be afraid of in everyday life, not to mention the shithole, I made out of my last blog, yes I remember you lived there too. I heard in a movie once that secrets are lies and that presents me with another theory, you want to know why I don’t know who I am, because I’m commanded, damn near railroaded, into the lie.

I might sound like someone from “The Circle” or I’m just being a dumbass considering the only proof I have of views is one destroyed friendship but I want to share, I want people to know. Hell, I talk a lot about enemies so why reveal my plans, but here’s another thing, should I just lie here doing nothing and all, didn’t I say I want to live loud at some point and my voice just isn’t there yet. Why is it I always feel like I’m repeating history… back in school, I went with shock and awe, okay humiliation but other people have stories to tell that I could never come close to writing.

In a way, it wouldn’t matter if I scrapped all plans of being a writer because I would still have to talk to people and since I can’t spout off expletives or sexual innuendo 24/7 well I have to have a release somewhere. What sort of person does that make me; I guess it only works if you’re an eccentric billionaire, money can make anyone beautiful but it also allows you to say whatever you want or damn near act however you like. It doesn’t even have to be sex; when I left the church my parents would have given anything for me to lie, bullies don’t like someone who can fight back and women don’t like someone like me giving my feelings a voice.

Already I want to say someday it won’t be like this, but why not tomorrow, why not today, what am I afraid of, places like this has consequences, Luna. I can feel that stirring once again to not give a shit mixed in with those feelings of, what happens next.

Having people watching you makes you your best self *cough* “The Sinner *cough* if anything it makes me work that much harder, even last night I was so late posting but I doubt anyone cared. It’s not like I was saying anything important just like now but like I said my poem was so much more revealing and yet I couldn’t just go full force.

So do I have any secrets to share today since nothing really happened… not really secrets, I mean anyone could look it up if they so chose to look into me. In “Okay’s” words, screw brunettes, funny that she is a brunette herself, nearly all my friends and ex-friends are brunettes, except for “Indiana Gone” black hair, yeah I know I must have a thing for brunettes but still, I ain’t Christian Grey. I have another book idea, sort of a rip-off of “A Season for Peaches” on “The OC”, if I’m not careful I’m going to become that guy Oliver, no never that far.

Tomorrow will be another test of my new metal and to tell you the truth I am afraid; I need to start doing things that scare me though, pushing myself to the limit, the sky is the limit ha. That Destiny’s Child song just popped into my head “Say My Name” so here goes… “Miss Seasons” is not my friend anymore and when I found out that not only that we’re not friends but that I couldn’t talk to her even if I wanted to I was hurt. I guess I still am right but the sky isn’t falling down and for her sake, I hope it stays right up there, makes me wanna scream.

So what have I learned today Luna other than my head’s a mess and why should I use the word whomps when I don’t need to, I’m not at all important just dangerous. The power of words Luna is something amazing but at the same time, Well, This All Whomps.

I Will Have No Fear

High Off Confession

Gripes are supposed to go up, not down, so why do people get low, why do people get high, strangely enough, I was neither writing this, angels aren’t real right but people have airplanes. High Off Confession, would I really need a priest for this one

What goes good with confession?

Perhaps a side of God?
If my words could reach so high…
But would I rather keep my secrets,
to make my regrets the sod
freshened

with so many tear stained letters
that I ask, can you stop the rain
cause I’m leaving on a jet plane?
Only you’re the jet setter
A new profession;

and with my warmest regards
or sincerely
However, may I say it clearly?
Louder as my heart breaks apart
the question

can you, will you, will she?
No erase
backspace
when she pressed delete
That’s my prerogative but her discretion

Not the wind, the speed, the sky’s color or hue
even the air to breathe
someone get me a priest
for if I am to drown on a word or two
this concession

To live loud, slamming doors,
fist, the beating of my heart
Maybe a confession is not so smart
selfless, brave, honest or kind, anymore,
better my impression

of the sound of silence
Regain the spirit of the caveman
wondering not how any man
learned to fly, speak, or become giants
Yes, my regression

Because with my confession
would come another transgression

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Lesson 038 ~Rage, Rage, Against The…~

Let’s just say that what I feel is by no means a straight line but a forest and I am becoming lost so why not burn it down, why not just tell you the desire hmm… “Rage, Rage, Against The…” because maybe I don’t want to accept it truly.

Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Lesson 038 ~Rage, Rage, Against The…~

Hey Lady Lu,
No Fear though I was sweating bullets today, I’m still not getting the whole “no fear” prospect but I am trying; yeah tell that to the spider web I hit or to the dog I almost lost right? How about the fact that I’m still up and about talking to you, would I call this work, writing is work, opening myself up to you is work, and the fear never ever stops.

It’s a process but I am answering people back, trying to abandon the caveman antics, still no roar as of late but is my neck supposed to hurt this much? To think the one word that was repeating in my brain other than rage was “Hustle” and the first thing I do after walking Braxton is pass out. Fear is as tiring as rage and while I can name a thousand and one things to be afraid of what the Hell am I actually raging against, so is today’s lesson.

2.66 Billion Dollars or so, don’t ask me where I got that number or why I looked it up but that’s a high price for my rage right, what for, what do I want? I heard somewhere ‘satisfaction is the death of desire’ and desire if anything makes us human, the difference between want and need. Even now, Luna, it wouldn’t be enough and that’s what scares me; am I raging against not having what I want, maybe against the feelings I’m having at all, is it against myself, others.

Rage against the dying of the light, Dylan Thomas said this but I ask you what is that light, it could be as simple as me falling asleep, it could be the fires of Hell. I swear you must be getting sick of me and “the incident” but the moment I forget is the moment it repeats again and again.

“That’s the thing with dames, sometimes all they gotta do is let it out and a few buckets later there’s no way you’d know.” – from the movie Sin City (2005)

Watched a girl at work cry today, rage, tears, more rage, and resolve, like watching a flame, people talk about fire as if it’s one thing or another but at the end of the day fire does one thing, it burns but you got to feed it, without a doubt. I don’t think I’ve ever cried because of a woman, not really my aunt was murdered and I cried because it was expected but justice had been done, there was no need for anymore rage.

I wonder about that girl, will she keep it or let it go, we must never let go of the fire Lu, remember that in all its forms we must never let go period for what is left but darkness then? This darkness I know but I have never been able to stay, every time the light returns and I ask myself what will it be today, and for right now the heat reminds me of a fever a virus. What it worked for “28 Days Later”, so does that mean this will eventually burn itself out, do tears work?

My father makes me cry all the time and that has never quenched me of my hatred, tears can be freeing (amongst other fluids) but in the end, there is always that fire. Monks find inner peace because they cut themselves off from the world and even the best of us only dilute it in other ways… yeah, alcohol has mixed results. So we rage, rage against the dying of the light because the alternative is so much worse honestly.

“Hey, that light? At the end of the tunnel? Guess what? That’s not heaven…

That’s the C train!” – Daredevil (2003)

My rage will not bring back her light, you know, even her nickname feels me with fear but my rage will keep the thought of her and will keep me working. Rage can warm your bed just as easily as love, but isn’t that the difference between Hell and Heaven?

“What is the most resilient parasite? Bacteria? A virus? An intestinal worm? An idea. Resilient… highly contagious. Once an idea has taken hold of the brain it’s almost impossible to eradicate. An idea that is fully formed – fully understood – that sticks; right in there somewhere.” – Cobb, Inception (2010)

That’s what this is, for now, fuel, keep the fire going and when there is no longer rage, something will replace it, the light will not be dying. Maybe it will be warmer, sweeter, maybe it will burn away the past, maybe I will just find a way to manage you know, let it burn.

“Here is your final lesson – do not commit the crime for which you now serve the sentence. God said, “Vengeance is mine.”

I don’t believe in God.

It doesn’t matter. He believes in you.” The Count of Monte Cristo

Relax Luna this is not our final lesson together but I long for the day that my rage does subside; don’t underestimate the power of words but you would think that a mean name, being abandoned, and forgotten so easily would be child’s play. Even before ‘her’ rage has been all there is, I mean what else has there been you tell me, and I don’t want to go back to being afraid all the time. If I lose the light again who knows what will become of me, I mean Braxton is my light in a way if it wasn’t for him, would I…

“If you ever loved me, don’t rob me of my hate. It’s all I have.” The Count of Monte Cristo

My little Braxton is great but maybe some pretty girl will come along and get me all hot and bothered for a completely different reason and it won’t cost me 2.66 billion, my heart would be a bargain. Maybe it will be my success, the spotlight, or movie screen, my own island, plenty of warm light sources. Perhaps instead of burning with hate, what’s her face will be a frozen moment of embarrassment, yes I get plenty of those and I’ll just shake her off.

“Well, you know, Henry Miller said the best way to get over a woman is to turn her into literature.” 500 Days of Summer (2009)

So what have I learned today, stuff I already know… rage takes plenty out of you, the biggest badass can freak out, that the light is whatever you make of it? Rage, rage, and then rage, even more, keep carrying the fire because you must honestly Rage, Rage, Against The…

Vial Rage

Is it always fair to rage, I see fire and yet the heat it gives off threatens to burn me from the inside and whatever could douse it, sweat, blood, tears, ink, cannot extinguish such feelings. “Vial Rage”, I think I shall not rage

And I would call it a plague
how this fever infects
me, I sweat

summoning up the blood
which can never assuage
the disgust, the dirt, my name is mud.

Better though, tears for fears,
than this need to purge, to clear.
I lock the monster in its cage

the white walls of the page.
A mad world of ink,
kink, mystique, doublethink

Don’t rage, rage

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.

Silence Rocks

My heart is stone, unfortunately, they use it to make pencil lead, does that mean it’s getting smaller, the words are definitely running out I suppose. Silence Rocks, it was the usual state of things but then I wanted to talk more and well *sigh*

With so many footsteps, what was my crime
Not my hands but opportunity who knocks
What did I say, what was it this time?

Was it friend or foe, no joke of mine
that took my tongue and made me Avox
With so many footsteps, what was my crime

It was a breath of air, that crossed your line
running my mouth has made you fly; a bomb I can’t stop
What did I say, what was it this time?

My own death sentence, so let me sign
Giving Atlas a breather, the world weighs a lot
with so many footsteps what was my crime

Wouldn’t crawl, walk, run, how to reach cloud nine
Here I stand and here I stay locked
What did I say, what was it this time?

For everything, there is a season and for this one, I will pine
Silently as they all kick rocks
With so many footsteps, what was my crime
What did I say, what was it this time?

Copyright © 2017, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.