The Split Infinitives

Public Relations

The Split Infinitives


We'll start at the bottom
When I turned shaking, crowded rafters into a faint hum
As I bury myself in restlessness
I'll try and make the best of this

As parents watch their daughters and sons
They're marching in pairs going one by one

What am I doing here
Fake along with the crowd and cheer
Together, alone
To each his and every own

Temper a look on my face
Pleasant enough to get me away from my place
I can make this something else
And I turn

As I turn around
This is where my scattered thoughts are found

Cookie Consent

This website uses cookies or similar technologies, to enhance your browsing experience and provide personalized recommendations. By continuing to use our website, you agree to our Privacy Policy