donate to ya boy

Sunday, September 9, 2012

sad..."well aint that a bitch."

when the words don't come
and we wear the same clothes for days.
when this cigarette is done
I shall be on display
to a life I could have never imagined to be mine
fine wine & cannibus every night
a different bed
with a diffrent smile
to wake up to each sunrise.
this is my love
and its ending one minute at a time.
this is my struggle
ever so divine.
aligned, with
spinal chord full of wisdom
inline with pineal gland as it glistens
pension is the only reason im pensive
making dividends off the words I spin
(ha,good joke)
awoke in a coma to count my blasphomeys
with this media obsessed culture
brand name duopoly facade
a pile of manure so rudimentary and lurid
it causes my happy ass
to not give a
FUCK...simply to be at one with nature
one with my lover
one with the inner workings of things
THIS PLANET
my mother.
im featured in publications
media relations so far off the beaten stream
it leaves me in danger
of failure to a modern conviction...
my high school buddies/
ex girlfriends thinking.
but to make one souls life less fleeting with one word
means my entire momement on this earth
how ever fast that goes.
even after the sun supernovas
there will be remnince of this love
I touched
and felt
from this species who may have very well doomed it all.
but my god
some of us tried
and that alone makes me smile.

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