Of others of clarity, and my inhibition, too excel platform at 108 ….. drove my inherent days away. Assistance was a exclamation who knew not abandonment. At ten we were friends, as they had us visit the queen of Hanson Woods, for instant replication, opals shut matrix renown, my paleontological, book work’s were sold to us on the basis they never cede to colour. Then they took his word, at eleven, he had known many a wireless station by the midnight curfew. They listened to those gunners falling from afar, dread asleep too awake of other’s, now twelve, expanding by monolithic sales, shot his first necktie of clarity, seamless, of course. Wrote in his colourless platform at twelve, those words never made news, past sounds it’s all the same, so my brother founding in geometry wrote black and white poetry, coded for his newly ambition at sixteen. Masters raising your two word’s, you have only one, or was it you only need one? Making those remarks cost you my voice, loved by assistance and succeed with accordance.

2021 Adam Blewett ©