Poetry Anatomical

Time like a treasure is wound up and whistles a happy go likely old tune that is true.
Send out the signal and wait for the symptoms of gratitude calling out deep in the blue.
Brash and aberrant the play of our dawn is an old mechanism that grows you a home.
Sickness envelopes the nimble repressive destroyers of vision and breaks every bone.

Ventricle winters inspire untraceable blessings and nearing the pulse of dismay
we gather up bits of the aftermath happily heir to the semblance of carried away.
Seize the emphatic desire to grow every drop every trace every sun every moon.
Drowsy blue head scratching morn on the porch over mountains of make believe speaking too soon.

Rightfully hopeful unjustified speakers can dance through the planet with blindfolded hands
or shake up the nation one dream at a time like a mystical army where atrophy stands.
Build it back up little toddler of chance we can purify death by the time we reach birth.
Woken by angels and soldiers each branded with certified stamps on the state of the Earth.