ethereal crows picked at my souls bones
As if they were edible stones
To compost a life for new seeds to be sown
To think a younger me watched so many movies with Sylvester Stallone
My body. How it groans…
I’m old now?
I can’t remember anymore…
Dementia knocking politely at my door
Putting past memories under cognition floorboards
Now my chemicals age in the cellar
Fine wine for old man yeller, or Mr. Rockefeller
Cold & dry… seems kinda nice
as opposed to before—
Lead poison, dust mites—
But that was a different life
Eons ago—think twice—
Millennia had past before change emerged from strife
Now it’s all so new
Oh how new is new—
who knew it could be true—
That I should live again,
And find my way back to you.
Be a pal, come talk👆
Thanks for listening.
I appreciate all comprehensions of each piece. If you attained a bit of light in the upstairs attic, please, share your thoughts in the comments as it pertains to you.
Like, follow, subscribe, and all that stuff that makes the good merry-go-round machine work.
Any penny to the coffee cup below helps me further unclog mental befuddlement for us all, & work on my narratives more.
Until next time.
