Do you ever look back on the past?
Take a glance and realize that strife and life all seem to last.
No matter a change, or a shotgun blast, or an all-star cast.
The play will get criticisms.
The future too can dissolve our eyes and thoughts as well.
People can talk and sell.
Hearts can break and meld.
It seems like complicated division.
Presents are present reminders of the present state of mind that is the present.
Parents are kings and children, lowly peasants.
Time in a bottle opens and you smell the essence.
What a kind circumcision.
We could quote a lot of people.
And say our prayers inside a hollow steeple.
And all our attempts could be truly feeble.
Lips could kiss oblivion.
But we don't fall into this trap.
Negativity likes to grasp and attack.
Purity likes to lack and crack.
Make some tough decisions.
Smell the dew from the grass; old seasons form.
Look at a yearbook; memories reborn.
Hear an old song; a beautiful scorn.
Find a new mission.
Maybe words are wasted on ignorance.
Maybe God wants intelligent deliverance.
Maybe Darren likes diligence.
Taste the bitter schism.