The scooter on the other side. behind the trailer as i lie beneath it. a reoccurring theme of danger. Someones looking for me. the scooter helps me hide. it hasn't been used. the tire is flat and undisturbed and that is how i hope to stay.
This picture is really nice showing texture and feeling. Although we're looking at a pile of soggy leaves broken down road and a dirty curb we can still find a calming peace and beauty.
The old piano. Its strings are lose and and limbs are rickety. I hate to play you but your sound is beautiful and your feel is smooth. it calls to me but i resist.
i worry to sit but but it must be played a crick as i sit and a ping is i lay down the first note. it feels tense but it echoes through my ears and i keep playing.
mysterious old house through a window of time. Its calling me through the hole but i cant get through; time, chores, and assignments are holding me back with no escape.
the seedlings of a dead branch waver underneath its limbs. once apart of something so great and old now lies to rot. but there is still hope to start fresh and new.
crippled on the sidewalk exposed to be crushed by an unforgiving merciless being. Already withering i sit and wait to be beaten down, dehydrated, and, life sucked out from my very heart.
a tiny little acorn hat is minding his own business wondering if there really is a hard brown acorn out there unattached. although he sits and dreams he finds it hard to take any action in finding this acorn of his. he has no legs.
