Clumsy Hands

Life is a tapestry of color and experience,

but I confess that I was never good at sewing. It’s frustrating sometimes, (life, that is,) because no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to thread the eye of the

storm is upon me, giving me a moments’ grace before it blows everything I love away, up into the sky, over the bay, and into the deep blue

see me sitting here on the sidewalk waiting for the postman like a child waiting for some cereal box prize. But, to tell you the truth, the postman is really a woman and the prize is just a

lie down here for a moment in the grass and watch the clouds go by with me. It makes me remember simple times and pleasures, and reminds me what is really worth living

four, wait, six letters lined up in a row: an A, S, E, two K’s and an M. One avoids me, one forgets me, one eats me, one needs me, one greets me, one sees me. All reject me, none get

mi, fa, so, la, ti,

do, or was it do? I do. I don’t. I didn’t. I won’t. Do what? Do nothing. Do something. Do this. Do that. Don’t step on the grass. Don’t talk to me. Don’t tell me what is wrong or

write your secrets on a piece of paper. Or better yet, tell them to a stranger, which is always easier to do than to tell those you care and love, and those who love and care for you in return. Why, you ask? Because

U turn at the next light. The street you need to turn down you can only reach by going a particular

weigh in before the match of your life. Of life. Throw up in the bathroom if you need to lose a bit more

wait a moment for the answer: you don’t have to lie to them. Their lack of understanding means you can tell the truth and they still won’t know enough to judge you or see your weaknesses and even if they do they will soon

forget-me-not is an interesting flower, more because of the name than the actual

flour, sugar, and vanilla I already have, but there are some other things that I
kneed him hard and I can tell it hurt. I would stop to help but I don’t have
thyme, parsley, and rosemary all smell funny, but are very important in
they’re owning up to what they did today. Which is a very good thing
two little boys play in the grass. One has a small rubber ball that is
blew big bubbles at home a few weeks ago. We did it by blowing
threw you a curve ball when I asked my question. Now you
ROFL. ngl, ppl srsly r w8ing 4 nthing. KWIM? LOL. BR
bee flew clear from the hive and stung the top of my
knows a lot, but not quite as much as you think he
wood, but it takes a while, so hammer down the
nails need to be clipped. I lost mine that my
ant went marching one by one, the little
won the prize, so why don’t you come
buy my stuff? I don’t want to be a
cell outside. I know that it isn’t
mine for gold. I’m right here,
but eye halve knot scene

The answer.