The messure of man
I am not the messure to messure my self
neither am I there to be messured by any one else
I am the word that speaks it self
that wonders
how soon is to soon
how soon is a little to late
how far is now
how little is to much
but as I float arrested by my emotions
I ask the one inside
the one that likes to guess
who is the messure and
what is the standard to be messured by
