We fly on dollar bills...

Like magic carpets...

"100 dollars today will be the same tomorrow"

Unless we spend it on our sorrows...

Then we regret,

And end up getting wet

From the storms we create...

That we formed within the clouds...

But an eye is still waiting up above...

Above pyramids made of stones frozen in time...

...

When we seek treasure from our angels

Do we ever think about their doings?

Or their lessons?

Do we ever listen to their silence

For when they say no?

For when they say nothing...

But as we watch

Know if they're blessings,

And know if they're sins...

Because our fantasies are counterfeit angels...

That talks about only what the mind wants,

And not what it needs.