What I Write

I don’t know If I like The mood I am currently in I want to write The urge Is trembling At the top Of my pen But what I don’t know Should it be Those many days That life Presented me A fork Or how I missed Those opportunities By walking The wrong tine Be it fate To lay down With wife Work Sedentarism Or Many a day When death Was just before me Would have been So easy To brush his hand Drop that mic And walk Do I grasp That urge To break out And write In a new style Punk Would be it With outrageous hair An F U to fashion And a finger To the Queen (Not Kate) Am sure I hear London calling But Punk Is not that poetic More brutal Would end up In the Gutter poets Class Bless his honesty Or do I write Mournfully That unattainable Vision Where I know Life will last Or write about A porcelain throne That’s accompanied by A porcelain Flute As sometimes That’s How I feel What I write