Sta.sh
No? Neither have I.
On a cold Autumn night,
When the moon is just right,
And our faces are teased by flakes of fresh-fallen snow.
We find our selves there,
Living life without care,
Faced with an existence alone.
And thus we do stand,
with the world in our hands,
Stopped by naught but imagination alone.
And what do we do,
but say tootle-do,
and leave sanity lagging behind?
***
I'm in a place that is a middle ground,
I am neither where you begin in a day, nor where you end
You'd have to be blind not to see me.
If you look you might see me pik-at-chu
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Stumped 
