Creative, creative writing, Fantasy, Ideaologies, Poetry, Thinkr8, writing

He Has The Way To Make No Sense

Take all the ideas and run them into view when they have all the speculation gathered unto the group of compromiser’s. We couldn’t hold on to our belief. And then this happen. Just as that came along, when it turned everything into a smooth jazzie drunken dream. Our place was of naught.

Most of them couldn’t contain their laughter.
As the rest fell.

How was it, the un-containable became wanted.
Is this for us to make some sense of what isn’t written.
When all is seen – only the words written.

Take all the ideas and run them into view.

Reality spoke, “a smooth jazzie drunken dream.”

Our place was of naught.

Smashing potato’s.
Tip to butter sweet.

They laughed.

A stamping example of malarkey. This was is gift.

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