A Rather Peculiar Fellow

A Poem by Phonzthewriter

A Revised Poem from 2019

A drop of rain falls, and it is raining
A man has a thought, and he is thinking
Flowing from a tower was a dream sequence.
Allow me to wrap one around the other.
It streams easily and hums constantly.
The eyes are heavenly the heart dark.
The essence cuts the body tart.
We all distance ourselves from evil.
We all detach the world from chivalry.
It accents the basket with wheels.
And eats the concrete with seals.
The rolling lies of it all.
The essence and purity of what was.
The scenic route of teachings.
The distracted picking up of liars and darts.
We deliver the department of no one.
And now we are given no purpose.
Who lives in the distance to bravery?
Who lives with the distance of cowards?
Is it to do with safety?
A end that is scenic.
The essence and the purpose float.
We want to make sense, and we want to live.
Who wants to live forever in a Dubois hospitality?
Love the finish for all of it.
If we lose, I am sure of it.
But that is all I ever wanted.