rock the boat with random thoughts

Not so strong I sit on a rock and dream of my lost battles and failures to come.
I don't dare smile, even slightly, for fear guilt may want to take its revenge. But in a world without stomachs and hearts the throat would probably be queen, and ten fingers it's humble servants.
Do you ever think of colors?
Just as they are, a never ending blue,
a hole day of pink fields up to your ears
While we, the ugly people, the un-hip and un-fit struggle to snatch barely an inch or two of beauty
to put it in a jar and show to our grandchildren when we are old.