question in writing....
Test those who care
In the eyes of tigers raging in syntax I am a butterfly without worry
If you live in an edgeless world, how can those who like being bottled up fathom your scope
So they battle the intent as if it was a roach near their Big Mac licking his chops
These are the people who feel that blues skies must be blue
That oxygen resides in its hue not any other color
I envision green clouds raining yellow snow
A grey sun shining on the melancholy of structure
Guarding the normality most people relay on for comfortableness and understanding
It is easy to reject what is not common to you
Being different is the spike that wedges creativity from insanity
I move with a directionless delivery
I am everywhere and nowhere at the same time
You can tout my flaws and blast my offerings
But as many are in life, not perfect.
Do not conform to what we deem right
And in reclusive reasoning, they are rejected and prosecuted
So I am Picasso
I live between the space where form and structure fail to sustain my creativeness
Dining on what you render as garbage
Full of myself
Reinventing my English to irrelevance......