currently the leaves have yet to drop from trees in mass quantities has it should have been long ago just because now is different from then doesnt mean the lack of puncuation is less correct or abstract. the times the seasons change and as sure as the turn to other times they themselves change and december is no longer a cold month here. what is left of change that i cant find. is no one here left to see the green grass of summer standing still underneath darkening grey skies of pre autumn seasons that are no longer winters here in the heartlands depth of changing passions bound to beds where spring no longer hold a coil to make ends meet against the frozen back drop of our nation in lue of progress. can any dues be repaid in abscence of what use to be but even though it is real its no longer valid in the eyes that conrticdict that very exsistance as nothing. can there be any more thought of strings winding necks of instruments. can i find the passion in the eyes of another day castaway into the abyss..the past...no longer here to grasp but they are only conceptions of this time that is now history...forgoten. forgoten faces and stories and lost meaning in the distance of futures. causing meanings to fail in heaves of catstrophy men stand laughing in offices. the striking sounds of coffee brewing as bombs and fundamentalist destroy what we are. copy the files into a mainframe and leave behind the past notions that here is in anyway a part that is detachable from what it is that we contain in our minds which only seperate us from the surroundings here. floors oak woods and bassons offering complacent feelings adjacnet to black and nothingness of meaningless gaps in what was once me. here is a comprimise of integrity only briefly but seductively unsure of its intentions until it is too late. i found you weeping along dusty driven city street. i find you among weeping widows wailing in screams as traffic signs cut apart with graffiti and lights change colors apart from the computer that sense with electronic eyes. i leave these words for whoever may stop by in the future if i am not here to greet them, but what is lost in the music i hear. the meaning of a generation of silence centries of oppression...i will never find you again...i will miss you eternally. causing sparks as tires tirelessly lose traction and here slips into the distance forgotten...only i remember now. here i am only. here i am alone her i am in memmory now now forgoten and only these words remember but they were once me and now have left my hands clacking on keyboards to express only the emotions clouded by the words to explain.