The Riddle Seeker

I want to write something long... but nothing comes on my mind... the sky it's cloudless and my mind it's thoughtless... and the crow ate the bug though the bug was all red he knew it would kill him but for a moment it seemed like it's worth it.. past doesn't count it's already happened and now lives only in memory but they never last forever... future doesn't count it might never arrive drop dead any minute now... but the present it's a waste.. we never do what we want to we never say what we want to.. the crow ate the bug and next moment drop dead but he thought it was would be worth it at least he tried.... I've been planning to say so many things for so long.. planing till the smallest details when and how to say them.. how to act the tine of voice the look in eyes... I've never said them not even once....we want to do so many things but whats holding us back? the possible future what or actions might effect... but does it even count? without trying you will never find out... I keep remind myself over and over again.. we are afraid so very afraid to fuck it up so we better don't even try but you know what happens without the try? it's stays the same and repeats itself over and over again and then... then it gets old withers and dies... if you fuck it up you can always try to get things back together but when it dies... it dies and there's nothing left... but it's too late isn't it? or maybe just now is the time.... the crow ate the bug he thought it would be worth it... the taste of poison of it was so sweet an instant ecstasy run trough his nerves before his eyes he saw the heaven... and then he died