Crawler

Gone off the deep end.
Over the barrel.
Knee deep in it.
And it ain,t that bad.
Folks think I lost it.
When I know.
What I found,
Is,
Making me solid,
While I float around.
It ain’t token.
Or load on sound.
The keys just floating.
Under finger dance.
Some are stroking.
Some sing along.
Lines of liquid showing.
Through me all the time.
Nothing I see falls.
Everything I hear rhymes’
I get lost in her some times.
Everything else fades away.
In her voice,
I hear every sound.
In her eyes,
I have to say.
I know what I’ve found………..
FenniganT 5/27/10