Good, bad; happy, sad; beauty, ugly; we decide and choose, to grow and to draw out like branches or a tree. We grow from shoot to the broadest of redwoods; to look, grow and evolve cause nothing is constant except for a constant change.
Hidden in my world in the depths of despair I squander for life when I breathe through the air. Walls of glass threw him a universe away little did he know what he won what he lost, for blinded was he in his own glass orb.
Inversed, conversed, transposed, our worlds may appear; but entangled our lives are not knowing up and down mutually connected like a boat to the mooring line we complete and define one another.
