Ride
I can’t get off how I’d like to get off
so I’ll have to get off soft
I can’t get loft how I’d like to get loft
so I don’t get loft oft
I want to face this thing that keeps me down
Awash in a reservoir of doubt and fear
I’m drowning, floundering, reaching around me
Problems they hound me
Monsters surround me
But, somehow, strangely, they all seem to be
A reflection, an image a picture of
Me
And I can’t get off how I’d like to get off
so I’ll have to get off soft
And I can’t get loft how I’d like to get loft
so I don’t get loft oft
I want to get high, so high, that I fly by arrows, missiles, and projectiles of inadequacy
Shot from a thousand countries, a thousand guns, on a thousand ships all launched by a face that looks like
Mine
I want to get off, blowing my head on a mind bending plutonian type experience
Snorkeling to worlds yet unknown all in the space of time that it takes to really know
Myself
I want to wiggle my toes in the periwinkle sea grass of freedom but
I’m trapped in a psychological prison surrounded by windows and doors
There are too many means of ingress and egress, there’s even a trap door constructed by
Me
So, after signing a waiver
I’ll step through the door to the boardwalk of my soul, and ride the roller coaster to eternal happiness or damnation
ride it until the wheels fall off
but . . .
If I can’t get off how I’d like to get off
I’ll have to get off soft
Copyright © Mari Banks | Year Posted 2013
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