No show, no go, no dough to pay the way.
Heaven sent, I meant to do right and fight a knight of fear, the dear heart he is.
I live in fear of clear silence. That empty room is not a womb, not even a vacuum. Just dead air.
Save face and fall on it so no one can see you. Boohoo, you tried and learned not to advertise three days before an event’s rise.
Well spent the hours glower down, down on you, your back and lack of financial reciprocity this atrocity was supposed to reap. Your affinity to pave the way for disarray, to change the range of neuropathy in motion, that haze that looks before you.
Who said it was bad or scary, sad or hairy, maybe it was glad and merry? Some where else. March forward instead of ride the conveyor belt to your death.
My fear is no one will hear about it.
My fear is no one will show up.
Then throw up your hands and dance for you’re too scared to care. Money out in a drought is a leak to a deluge.