The wind blows gently along the tops of the trees
Like a whisper in the ear, it gently passes not leaving a trace
Simply an impression
You wonder if it’s real, if it really happened
Did you just imagine or is it revealed?
Thinking too hard about what you can’t prove
What you can’t be sure of…
The hidden untruths
Lie deep within the unread rules
The gaps between the lines that you can’t write on
Something that is there but unseen
So many things in life
So many unseen futures
No where to turn where there isn’t a reckoning
It doesn’t matter if the glass is half full if it never comes off the shelf
Leave the things you know to yourself
Or fight through all of the unrecoverable facts
Thinking, breathing, living