The song of string of lines in my head put down with great efforts here now to read what music they may make if any at all!?! There is always a blank board in my head to fill so not for me to worry!

 

I am miss a lonely fit,  I am getting more in touch yet not yet touchy-feely

That’s my lot, no one wants to build on it, as I am too much, outa yeah touch,

Yet that’s exactly what I need, what I want, to be soooo touched by even some

One’s or simply one, their touch, their brush, their kiss that is what, that is,

Is that so much too much, so out of reach?!? Do we all reel at just that thought!?

Does it have to be store bought!? Does money have to change our hands!?

Or can we work simple with that hand they say we were early on given, born

Into, dealt, felt, to us heal, to us on spend, will we ever mend, will our lot be

Saved from that crass that brass, that mass, authors those few of their authority,

Who whom how and when and where does it serve, us, them, those, ours!?

So on I go to get my jig my jiggly my mellow my naked self some respect

Our collective beings the things we should be equal at dividing , sharing!