That Would Be a Nice Place For a Picnic
I can't have a picnic today.
The food, I can't afford to pay.
The price of gas and everything.
Even my heart can't afford to sing.
The blues are sung by yellow wrens.
And the camara's cover is still on the lens.
The joy in life is slowly fading.
As picnic ants are hungryly waiting.
I know this is not what you want to hear.
But empty bellies are living near.
The price for pleasure and blissfulness.
Is much too high for all the rest.
Copyright © Robert Johnson | Year Posted 2011
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