between friction, in for which The valleys of my own ignorance
life's modes swing through my unconsciousness which was aching with
regret coalescing into an ineffable infinity of serendipity Relent,
and harbor your time along the shores of tranquility This poem
really sucks! Because she was secluded. And then he aluded whose
pistils are worn from the friction, simply, yet powerfully and wage war
on their point-proper diction Life, full
Now if you'll excuse me I must use the loo