Annually

Cranually, I cared away a caraway.
I cram my stam into Sams of sham, shan't slam the ram, it's in ROM I fall fail-fell into it
Friendly meats, all on one plate. Dead and sad they stomp and grind. Dead meats are one meets in the end. I meat Meet in Ghostspeak and screet sleep-speak softly to him.

I'm driving down the street I always drive down only this time before I'm taking the big turn there's a man in running uniform who just got a sandwich and he's crossing the street and stops and turns and looks down at the ground and frowns and looks as if he's dropped something but then no, he realizes he hasn't and looks blankly ahead as his tighted legs mount the sidewalk. This takes about 10 seconds.

Touching on a train or bus can be nice especially when you realize it's intentional--I can't stop thinking about this.

Storily I sat on the edge of many bricks, trinkling my hair down to peasants below. A feathered friend rested on a fingertip whilst I sung away of loves I could not find and the Morning and what it did. A tear. I let one leg angle down so I can fall crown frown. He picked me up and I started back again. I sang! To me!