A Trait

I feel as if I should have a trait- like smoking over an empty book not yet written in. I'd be alone in a brown colored room, thinking, and lost in those thoughts. Not a word would get written, but my story would have already been created. This would only be a taste of my tragic and romantic existence, for you see, I am a romantic, and there's nothing more alluring than a tragedy.

This building is tired of me, and I am tired of it.
Soon there is a Neverland with my Lost Boys. and there will be music to listen to and paintings to play. to touch and to feel the cold winter of the north will warm into a golden spring of a new duluth year. it will be new, the snow will have been blank, but soon there are our footprints and fairy dust to see. Whipppeeee!