Heart of Loia `'.,°~

“Tho Still—not Too Late—…”
by Loia

Tryin’ to get in
  where I fit in…

Found I no place
  to sit in.

Should’ve been here—
  not to begin with.

Tho a musical chair…?
  Shiny with flair…?

O yes, for me!
  O wait—no…

Specially fits all y’all
  who dare…

Let the spin begin…

Clinched fist
  to y’all, men…

Southern by grace—
  So little thy faith…
  Then times—it’s just taste…

Beat death
  from this place…

O now—
  no—not one.
Nor friend, nor face…

Eyed one man
  when start of race…
Tho none see now…

O perhaps—
  Should’ve loved last place…

O perhaps—
  should’ve chose stealth—
  thine pace…

O perhaps should’ve just loved—…

  Tho still—not too late—…

“Yet Moved..”
by Loia

Regarding this…
Cast off restraint…
Embracing this–
All but faint.

Hands of this–
Clay with paint…

Yet moved from this…
No–not me!
O wait… cain’t!

To end up taint…?
No–not me… ain’t.

Face of this–
Have complaint–…                 💥🏳

Wasst For The Higher Half

(by Loia)

I climbed a tree…
Forgot why for.

Wasst nowhere near the top no more–
in fact…
Wasst only halfway close.

Wasst… for the higher half…
I sent… my ghost.                           💥