POETRY

What I Deserve

Maybe its what it is
baby its what I deserve
I know that you love me so
and I love the things that grow
from my head-

in my bed
i’d like to sleep some more nights
before i’m dead, I don’t know why
there’s just something nice
about being alive

CHORUS
In the spring, the flowers have come
and they’re yellow,
we didn’t plant them, but that’s fine
i just love to watch them grow.

Maybe its what it is,
baby its what i deserve
I used to break the line
just to forsake the mind
into a conciousness flow
in my head-

it filled the room from my bed
the walls had bleed
contrdicted
everything i’d ever read
about life, reality ahead
time and space are constructed
to navigate
reality as instrructed
what is life, more importantly
what is death
is it all there is
or simply an experience
occupied with breath.

CHORUS
In the spring, the flowers have come
and they’re yellow,
we didn’t plant them, but that’s fine
i just love to watch them grow.

(retired)

Now as the seasons pass i watch the
clouds harrass an almost perfect cycle.
slowly time breaks it, and we gently aid it