The proverbial mountain made of molehill leaves deep tracks for others to follow. Dragged up with reticent heels digging in preventing ever reaching each far off summit. I learnt long ago to take flight when the air becomes thick with supposition, when breath is held so tight my chest cracks with stifled grasp. How the transference strangles, confuses and pins down the other's plight when there is mind to examine and will to know.
No, I have never said I would be with you, I have never said I wouldn't, but friend that I am, I shall always glide myself in stable consistency, in trusted air and beside you all the way.
The proverbial mountain made of molehill leaves deep tracks for others to follow. Dragged up with reticent heels digging in preventing ever reaching each far off summit. I learnt long ago to take flight when the air becomes thick with supposition, when breath is held so tight my chest cracks with stifled grasp. How the transference strangles, confuses and pins down the other's plight when there is mind to examine and will to know.
No, I have never said I would be with you, I have never said I wouldn't, but friend that I am, I shall always glide myself in stable consistency, in trusted air and beside you all the way.
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