So I reach a century and am decrepit
yet in my mind I dance on tap shoes and scream
amongst the cells locked in my mind I see
The trenches and incomprehension's
of a place I craved of peace serene.
I have reached the branch of life that has wilted
falling leaves of everyday I no longer want to gather
My fight was fought a half century ago
the children passed me by
I have no enemies left, I have no longer a foe.
Wheel me out to the piano bar and leave me
a statue of history who can not clean his own arse
grey follicles on a head of non descriptive imagination
I can no longer abide
this is my station.
Would you like me to guide you through the map that is life
circumnavigate through oceans of feelings
circumvent your emotion and ignore lust and love
evacuate the city of humanity
exist in the depth and not in the town of above.
For apparently I am one hundred years old
they asked me to tell the story of a triumphant life
I can not, I do not care
Look at me all you wish and crave and like
my soul is yours, to dissect and bare.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment