Pretense free unique lands

 

Presence us memories engineers

 

Transmit bit

 The notion held, a perfect fit,

But outward bound, a smaller bit.

The listener's take, a different knit,

The core idea, we seldom hit.

Fading familiar

The pattern etched, a well-worn groove,

Resisting what might help us move.

For fear the new will leave us bare,

We clutch the solace nestled there.

Though wisdom whispers, "Let it go,"

The tethered spirit answers, "No."

This fragile piece, this constant thing,

A shaky hope that change won't bring.

All accumulation me apart

 

Common protect grandparent wisdom

 

Violation idiots cause vanity