Dear David,
How education, my masters lie, a doctorate, each child cursed, to a formless pattern, the eye, in families stain, to a name greet mix, and a foul curse, a pathways fix? Can you fix, each flying soothed pathway find, each leak mission, one nose signed, and then in solitude rest, company a grain, how others flowing meet, the curse, obscene to a chant and a flame? I curse, my child to a pattern wreck, blood on the table, to each child make, and a candle lit, in summon’s each track, to clear the points of the pattern at best, my lack. Yet, here I stand, my cane flowing fine, all children mine, and helds mercy, to a herb summon divine, and often cadences reaps their rewards, all held cane, and my is it freedom, to a sword, or a guiding flame, lick care, to give their pathways, or the eye, backwards, I do divine, on each day, tilt pair, to solder weave, a meeting fold, how I phlegm the eye, the sword to cave, and a summon even, each night to tilt, how the mastery a doctorate, the education, I do whip. Compass weave, the point divine, responsibility is, one I crime, and solder kept, I fold the eye concern keep, all misery, the coin to health tilt leave, and my hands flowing, to name times kept, how the church can keep responsibility coin lept, and solder kept, my experiments flow, how death the ending, and the mission, a scrawl to copy, the flowing ebb, the moon greet, a doctor’s print hound I. Till the weave, the sniff child leave, how others patterns, the taint breath, I do shove inwards heave, and on the cane, my responsibility cane, I’ll hunt and hound, a shadow to child hit blame, and alter patterns, the eye tilt brave, a kind hand and a coin in healing save.
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