feeling disengaged or restless at best, this feeling can be hard to address. I come from no medium, no phone or external media, and my head is to full to decompress. I sit and write clues, to try and amuse, to beat out this feeling of dread.

Add an S to the end of the word and it becomes more then one. Add two S’s and you will end up with one. What is the word?

I carry your junk, and climb with grace, yet you shout in my stubborn face. I’ll give you sass, you’ll call me an A S S, but truth be told, I’ve got more class. I bray, I kick, I take no flack, but I will still haul you back.

I’m born when joy breaks through the silence. I ripple through rooms and hearts in alliance. Invisible, and yet I draw every ear when happiness takes on a voice and cheer.

Its a crime more serious than a misdemeanor. Its what one knee might call the other.