the first snow is on the ground and so is white also my wine
desperation came running through the garden, but it's not like I'm here to whine
it's just that I would've hoped for honesty from the stable keeper. the summer is all gone and I had no idea we had a white horse
though the signs were there. I saw my dear friend be sick like from a hard galloping through the lands, unlike the kind of relaxed, zen-like feel you get from riding our old mare with the name verde through the small pathways of mother nature. too bad I was really too lazy to ever visit the stables myself. there was always someone at home to do the saddling for me
forget all else, for honesty is really all I ask
and I can help you see which way faces the hollow mask
for I'm in the process of disintegration, saying bye bye for preconceived concepts. this has made me be like a mother to a number of street kids, those with no capacity to realize a home on their own. why, I don't know. maybe they're in the same process, though still trying to figure out proper coping skills, level 4, for when I've left for long journeys they always seem to find another heroine to be my substitute
