Sickness

I can cut it

Break it around

This apparent illness

Is obvious to be found

As trash whispers

Rolls with tiolet paper

Was there alternatives

To being uncreative

As if lost in dead space

Seeking harder but not hard

As trees show their colors

The call to create something

And I really mean something

Yummy

 Cholate candy factory

A little dream with me

Yea

Let it go.