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The Beatles and Shakespeare

will you still need me when i'm 64?
I need you.
No.
I want you.
Words are words, so easily misunderstood and misused.
Words make or break us, make us who we are by our abilities to string them together
in eloquent phrases or juvenile crap.

I'm always looking over my shoulder;
afraid of the past, and scared the future will pass me by.
the ever changing present is but a fleeting breath
swiftly expired to the sands of time
engulfed in foggy imperfect memories.

I Dream dreams that empeach upon reality leaving me no safe haven,
filling me with images of feasting on rotten and insestuous flesh,
fallen from favour in the midst of my highest excitement.

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