I ask for the perfect warm days caressed by soft winds,
Birds twittering away as the sun's omnipresence envelops my senses,
The smell of freshly-mowed grass and the perfect RGB of flowers
And a cup of sweet tea and oven-baked pies.
Perhaps I would have still lusted for these as I do now
And successfully battled unpleasant sprees.
But the ache is too pronounced to ignore,
I can call it nobleness to not give up what is precious
Or cowardice to hold on to what is truly not.
There is no mistaking the hollowness,
Like a snake's pit; and too much rain has clogged it
Forcing it to take to the world
Watch under your feet, look here, there, everywhere
And run back inside where you are safe.
No. No, the world does not run on whimsies,
And I am not as brave or high as they conclude.
I want my green trees and the knees of lesser ones
And for it, let's burn some pleasures in the sacrificial fires
As we pray to the demons to absolve us.
Birds twittering away as the sun's omnipresence envelops my senses,
The smell of freshly-mowed grass and the perfect RGB of flowers
And a cup of sweet tea and oven-baked pies.
Perhaps I would have still lusted for these as I do now
And successfully battled unpleasant sprees.
But the ache is too pronounced to ignore,
I can call it nobleness to not give up what is precious
Or cowardice to hold on to what is truly not.
There is no mistaking the hollowness,
Like a snake's pit; and too much rain has clogged it
Forcing it to take to the world
Watch under your feet, look here, there, everywhere
And run back inside where you are safe.
No. No, the world does not run on whimsies,
And I am not as brave or high as they conclude.
I want my green trees and the knees of lesser ones
And for it, let's burn some pleasures in the sacrificial fires
As we pray to the demons to absolve us.
