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Poem
I am scrolling down hill,

folding the pills,

elongating the tree's
and simplifying the breeze,

I am a song to be played-

earlier than you might say
in the day,

when hearing is a complaint
and danger is delayed,

but you are a spade,

to be wondered and craved,

you are your own way,

with the sing of the slave-

underground-
above the haze,

glazed with the betrayed,

honed in on like waves,

so stubborn your gay-

holding on to the page!

Don't you walk that way! 

Troubled little weaver-
always weavin' in and out of the days,

with your face,
and two others that may show you the way.

So...Whenever there is game,

whenever you are just being insane,

two others can ring your ping-

scratch at your lawn,

ease your bickering fawn,
who is ages old-
cranky and yet cold,

shines like the rivers of silver soles,

wasted and bold.

...Blanketing and broad like the system of the slots,

put in a coin so you can jog-
with your eye's,
and with your pogs,

fall to the floor,

while dude ranchers await cry's out the doors,

become single and slower,

dangerous like snow blowers,

manned by cats
with fake joints hangin' in their lips crowin,'

as they are growin,' croppin,'
and sowing,

the stage is set to start goin,'

but you stay all knowin'-
with the people out there- asses a blowin'!


Like the sound of the tick was that on it-

like the leaper out of time was so subordinate,

you know you could have grabbed mine,

you know about other ways to shine,

but still you sit and grind-

sleep and unwind,

base your catches on other famous people's finds...


I don't confide,

I really don't try,

I just hear god and ask about the water in the sky,
 

why doesn't it come down on African pride? 

When they need it most? 

When we know 911 proved evil the most...


But sit here and boast
and you'll hear gods jokes-

he's got what a man needs,

he's got you underneath a sheet,

so don't breathe!

Just start running,

got the mustard? 

Pray for a plead,

because random people leave
while friends try and greet,

an acre of land with animals and plants couldn't please,
even if they spoke the language, and cured the disease,

sorry if I sound meek-

but pride comes when I'm done writing these...
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