Rusty Can.

About rattling cans rusted at the fence of life: The ocean air smells salty. The sky seemed so blue but then turned to gray. The border was set where they have been chosen to be placed. From freedom comes choice, to dictate, to rule, for chaos and order roll supreme in their manner of push and pull. It is like a picture with many colors, but they are placed within rigid frames, they do not flow and irony is the factor of shading. To place an ethic, a dust road, a path to walk for something with a paradigm, tells the length of the chain between the two supreme, chaos and order. In steps man to set a border. To address humanitarian satisfaction: Enough is never enough, for the enduring curiosity steps in after self preservation. Where does help go when it is not needed? Humanitarian acts... The wind blows along a line far away from satisfaction, long after we have had our fill. The rattling cans sing a hymn on a solemn fence and some backward,forward coward would see them and only he would find them in his heart. Rusted cans at the fence line: To empty out and to despose of. To enjoy and move on. When do the mountains at the shoreline become boring with the thunderous song of push and pull on the pebbles we slip on? Rusted cans end up at the fence line for we want to empty out the sea. The wind carries them there on a salty scent. To even adore the sprout 'side the can-lined fence is an irony: It is but a shade of a rain forest. It is in double irony that we live in the shade of the rain forest. Then it folds back upon itself and it becomes apparent that we do not adore the sprout, but what we see of ourselves as the sprout comes to life. The tendency to love self is something we can not escape and we see life in terms of the love of self. The sprout becomes a sprite in the minds of those who have enough food to capacitate love. It is nothing we can control. To be selfish, to look after our self-interests. Self preservation. To open the preserved food. To sustain self, blind of the coastline. We can not control our will to live, neither will our children. The world only has so many little cans, my friend, its time to watch the border, it is time to practise birth control, for even some manner of a coward can see the cans' Macabre.

CuldeSac

What are words without understanding and what is understanding without sense?

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