Living with sincere joy,
While preaching doubts that constant toy.
This style bifurcates as my train chugs on.
This style divides by desired smiles and a wavering trust in life’s aspiring song.
For life’s aspiring song,
I chastise the living in note.
I guard and encourage the dead in mode.
Where will this style reunite?
Am I trying to forget or hide this style
By creating a different person, one made up from the mind?
What ease is this, that others have?
They drive with hope in their eyes and unfiltered joy as their whip.
Living with doubts and preaching joy.
This is how style reunites with life’s aspiring song.