A lightbulb filled with water...

Again with the ideas in one's own head, however, this one is more silly and has less of a meaning to it.

even when things seem hard there is a light dimmed but never put out
 like a lightbulb filled with water it is filled with the wings of what we call potatoes that simmer and slide down a pigs tail to the top of a mountain where the bees humm in tea pots around the norwegian banjo players,who laugh at the upside down flowers singing with the rain like ice fall, it never freezes but never melts as if an eternal internal flame exits in our hearts yet there is a mystery of somekind deciding the purpose in sauces cooked raw down the port of a wooden tree, one of the three felled for him,the one we talk about but somtimes we just dont understand why the fish dont fly or why things are the way they are

The End

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