two can play a game off chess but one can put the game to rest. of course if you have a tobassco sauce bottle for a king, and a thimble for a queen. when i gaze and play my mind can not stay in the game. it wonders like a cloud and i choose not to let my rain down on uganda. or try to play on straps and daggers. but if only i could go back to my child hood and nail it shut with thors hammer. and never reveal the truth behind the misspelled meaning of this poem. crystals snow horses leaves and rain. i perfer the rain and the leaves. i could never live where theres a horse on my mintaurs back. or the parinoid notion off some one stealing the crystals. or the displacement of mother rucus devoted to shame and happieness. ive read the dead beneath my bed and do you know what they said? "no go bow on through of coo" i ponder and leave to a rock in the sea. not by choice but by desision not be you or her but by me to see what lies and tells the truth i will come back to further my education. but only when your riding the hores.