Thursday, July 06, 2006

Maple

Lunch in the sun by the maple tree shade
Moments called Zen in the life we both made
Cannabis thoughts in the puffs I dismissed
If I had then, I'd be lost in the mist

Daisies and roses in grief's tender glare
Blurred around the edges, were you still there?
Runway to runway, tarmac of dreams
Spawned of an Elder, a purpose it seems

Puppets of paper limp in the rain
Forever be drunk, It will flatter your pain
Acrobats and Clowns are the Angels of Death
They're laughing it out, soldiers of Seth

Silence is golden. If so I'd be rich
A mime would be wealthy, not just a bitch
People are faceless but all so unique
You age in discretion, you just reached your peak