The Hippie
peal back the curtain certain from their eyes
blaze of something famed no surprise,
minus the perpetual rest deep inside
Summer with whispers holding fast
there's a certain curtain beneath their brow
gone is no winter and forget the fall
to the no it all take a shawl
proud to be a patron of honor
just let laughter bleed in honesty
circle fold want to be
collecting bright knit beads
smoking M ary Jane who is to gain
frightened said I in the moment near the shore
Tie dyed shirts with sandals galore
have a sip of Expresso waiting on awe so much more
the presence of an acostic blunder laying trench on the floor
Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2018
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