if you want to know the state of the world, look for a hand lettered sign
on the other side of the locked window, winter taunts me with beauty
calling something soft does not make it soft, maybe they meant eighty feet
staring at something long enough will make us see what we want to see
without a reason to stop the artist has no reason to create
off in the distance the future waits, yet we cling to fears from the past
something whimsical when we’re caught off guard; it’s hard to be cynical
the day will begin regardless if we’re awake so i’m sleeping in
knowledge is power but only if we can learn what we need to know
it’s in the details where we find the beauty and also the devil
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