Not Enough Time

No world is the same,
No life like this,

Besides what I write no other sight exists,

picture this,

Mountains are like molehills,
boulders like my fists,

Canyons like a crack,
Each creek a band of piss,

Ocean's like a puddle,
The jungle like my stubble,

I can juggle rubble with desert sands on my hands back,

In the palm of my other....
I hold all grace from our nature's mother,

A hurricane's a gust or tornadoes puff, 

An earthquake shakes barely jelly on a plate, 

The sky is beneath you,
We walk on a white floor,

Anything you see can change the type of it's sight's form,

What I write comes to life and in this night life, nothing sleeps,

Scared of no man,
But fear the bison size bumblebees,

A continent of tumbleweed,
Fascinated by my eyes, 
Because I know I note what none have seen,

As i write more,
I care not for what I maybe seem,

The only thing that comes across my mind is if you now see the same as me.