The art of being...

The sun snapped its indolent fingers, And I rose in a weary gesture of respect. Emulating the sun's pompous grin, I photosynthetically assimilated its pride. Picked up my pen and… Nothing…………… The horizon is sprawled across the ocean. Flirtingly swinging her hips to tease my lips. She’s trapped the ambitions of this honest man. In my hazy reverie, my dreams of being, A Huxley, a Shakespeare a Nietzche, Slipped over this square earth, And fell into the sunset.