off the sand dirt tarmac wacks ready of the yet not a time for happy let ye olden wire zap the conscience to open the eye to come what may if knees are to be bent bend to Who saves the soul in the alley no one’s told if what when why how could they for what vision yourself fluffy cloud grandmother’s pie in the morgue of our contrition emergency suddenly emergency was were we not official then just continue to wash your hands
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words less spoken 
In these times of the apparently worldwide spread out Coronavirus, I do nothing else then wash my hands, or nearly !!
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I like your writing style… a lot. You are very talented in my eyes.
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Thank you friend xo 🧡
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Of course.
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What a smorgasbord!
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Sorry, decided to revisit. I didn’t get the full value out of it until now. Rereading things and whatnot.
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Thanks friend X
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