Thoughts

 In the swells

Lashing uneven terrain

Peace is found

For perfection

Is not present

In the Presence

Of hardship

Cracks splinter

When exhaustion

Supplants the 

Need to be

A producer

Yet the need

Is in the

Hands of

Lowly and

Forgotten consumers

Who have nothing

To gain

But a quiet afternoon

Where commentary

Isn’t desired

It’s mission

Is simply being

One with self

And the thoughts

Thought

To be long buried

How wrong

Human

What isn’t met

Returns

To sender