The reason
I can smell rotten fish in a basket I figure out a group of snails step on other snails, Crawling out from the pail Cos they heard a voice Left behind their subordinates Deep down the bottom. I realise the denial in acts I recall those sequels What, where and how So called outcomes They named it What I see is artefacts I found foreword is no where Those wearing black suit Those wearing white collars Those wearing shimmering charms Those sitting in cozy chair I bend my head down Delighting the twist and tango Hypocrisy shouting tribes Suddenly, the tango touch me I see the light Guiding me forward Could it be a stepping stones? I realise it is a time To grasp the stars Strengthen connections Building networks The road to the horizon Isn’t that far… #the next replies to the above messages is hiden for privacy