F8

It’s difficult To contemplate My F8 A sad ending to relate A psychological way To masturbate As I progress Thru my allotted years I face and analyze My internal fears And shed somewhat regretful tears Of not doing that or this Reminiscing Of what did I miss As I hurtle towards Death’s kiss I realize I don’t wish to leave I want to stay And not have to grieve Life is a gift You want to continue to receive I wish to extend my subscription And reaffirm my conviction That living Is the ultimate addiction I admit to being greedy And spiritually needy And I’m not done With questions or fun Or being lazy soaking up the sun I want more time To write and rhyme I need more days To enjoy the sublime I’ve spent to much chasing green paper Wasting my time on a financial caper Collecting crap that will outlive me Only to be given to the next attendee So, they may add to the pile of waste Filling an emotionally empty space It’s such a disgusting race This is the F8 we face The never-ending material chase That simply has no place Fleecing my time Demanding I grind To serve the unkind I will make you a deal I refuse to squeal Bow or kneel Or waste myself As your personal toy on a shelf I will be me Come and see Genuine and free Not a care in the world To which I was hurled I will enjoy The chains I destroy As I disregard your ploy To keep me locked in a cage While you revel in my rage To keep me from turning the page To write a new section Called my personal resurrection This is my F8 Freedom’s reflection Look into your own mirror And own your fear You having nothing to lose my dear Eric (and sometimes not)