My Bus Gus

She she she is the liquid acoustic movement around me, and then my heart.  It beats through the roar whispers of knives in my back.  They will find a true noose in society for the topics they choose.  Power is in thought idea finding a sticking point in the heart.  The guilty will have no place to hide.  Being two faced will be even worse.  Witchcraft begins the tongue wagging.  I feel left by the side of the way and charged in the same day.  Looking in the looking glass I find the vision you all see.  It is a little askew of reality.  My time is about to come to be, but today was a quiet tribal surrender to the bloaks behind the counter.  Just know that the men I serenade DO NOT like to surrender, EVER.  Beautiful is my imagery and few has ever told me with true emotion and insight.  Bus be a gus I can count on every day writing along your way.  My first book in school was PUG.  Maybe this entry can be your second.