I'll  do nothing...
bad in life that will make my mother cry.
You can disgrace me, debase me, tie me to a railroad track.
But once the tears flow from my beloved mother, there's  no putting them back.

I'll  do nothing, bear this in mind and hear it,
I'll  do nothing that will diminish her spirit.
I  wont let evil near it. 
 I'll honor her by being like her, and proudly cheer it.

    A mother is nurture, she is the birth of nature.
A teacher not a taker, a mentor not a faker.
The ultimate God given talent, a human being maker.

She forsakes hers for the needs of  yours,
with dreams of high aspirations of her off- spring for,
nothing less, till their health and happiness soar.

Who else in this jaded,
complicated,
world gives unconditional love.  Who else.
Who else has you in their thoughts expressly, wantonly.
Who else has you in their thoughts religously, constantly. 
 
Concerned about your wants and needs, worries and dreads,  
doesn't want to pry, so she prays for you instead.
Who else.
No one else!

I'll  do nothing bad in life that will make my mother cry.

The significance of my being and meaning and impact.
When my time is over and mother nature calls me back.
Decomposing and crumbling  bones of my dirt nap.
The world turns and time in memorial won't give a crap.

      Nature's rules decide.
       All things abide.

When measuring in eons and we're a mere blip on the screen.
The profoundness of our meaninglessness could be overpowering.
Unknowable infinity of stars and what they have seen.
**** sapiens defining sum isn't worth mentioning.   

   In the darkness, endless, maw
   All, follow natures law

From the Complexities of vast galaxies beyond mortal man's understanding.
To the smallest intricacies  of nanoparticles, molecules, and atoms.
With the eternity of continuous space which is still hard to fathom.
Connected composites of muddy space dust created modern man at random.

Mammy say don't fear the boll-weevil,
Just a bug, don't worry bout him.
But Pappy say the little devil evil,
so he believe in the cotton gin.

This Texas guy say he was an angel,
I followed lock-step, believed what he said.
Didn't seem to have any sharp angles,
he drank some poisoned koolaid now he dead.

Searched at end of rainbow for *** of gold
me be rich *****, no mo po *****.
Leprechaun belief, I been told,
While head in sky searching, fell in trench.

Politician and preacher keep saying,
I hear their voice noise grind and grind,
vote for me girl and keep praying,
but in the end it make no nevermind.

I tink at de end of the day I just believe in me.

When I was younger:
   I shuffled along,
to no urgent song,
didn't march through my day strong. When young and strong are the best time for planned  convictions.
There's no acting lazy, or slowing down to the crazy, unless you want to live ungracefully in this hard unforgiving world.
When I was younger:
   I lacked logic cause I didn't make clear my premise,
like a man with no plan, a sap with no map.  I wandered tither and yonder like a ghoal  without a goal, a ghost least of most,  no future to ponder.
When I was younger:
   I bogged down in metaphorical feces cause I didn't watch where I was wading, forsaking and debating, planning is for suckers, futures are for chuckers.
When I was younger:
   I did nil and stood still while the city raced around me, progress to astound thee, forgetting the earth constantly rotates 260 miles an hour- waiting for no one.
When I was younger:
   Like the Dodo bird I forgot to grow wings, was eatin by rats and things, became extinct and unlinked to a place run on business, consumerism and cash. On the rocks I was dashed.
When I was younger:
I became he who loses, with a broken compass and excuses, laying laggardly leaderless, with the snoozing and the boozing, and sold my initiative for a bag of grass.
That's when I was younger:
   I'm older than that now.  But I still remember. It's  hard being younger!!

Who knew that getting a Starbucks gift card would turn out so harmful and mean.
When pleasant, harmless, innocent me fell for the spell of treacherous caffeine.

Like a hype with a spike
doing harm to his arm
I  was hooked.
Leaped before I looked,
goose was cooked.

Now I'm here to play the blame game.
Innocent me, walking in free, joyfully,
just getting a coffee.
Then wham!
or should I say bam!
It hit me.
I walked out a quivering, craving, slobbering creature...
maybe not literally but like I said it was done treacherously, maliciously, instantaneously, I was a caffeine *****!

So here are some of the reasons why I'm  unhappy with Starbucks:
--- Starbucks caffeine influenced my body by elevating my heart rate (I'm not sure why I expected anything different).
--- Starbucks crafty, subtley and slyly habitualized me ( Oh god, I'm  a creature of habit!)
--- Starbucks (If possible) is too friendly
--- Starbucks manipulated my accommodating nature (I just wanted to be friends, but now they feel more like, dare I  say it... family).
--- Starbucks slandered me ( by assuming I'm lazy. "Sit, relax, make yourself at home, stay as long as you like").
--- Starbucks  exposed my weaknesses ( l feel naked to coffees influence).
--- Starbucks made coffee hip and cool (I'm  going to go ahead and count that as a bad thing).
--- Starbucks crippled my will power (my will power walks with a limp now).
--- Starbucks  blew up the sun!  
--- And the final reason I'm  unhappy with Starbucks...because they're probably going to sue my *** for writing this!

Original thought is not knocking at my door. It seems there's very little original thought at all any more.

Put my brain back in storage up on the musty shelf. Seems everything I believe in is learned from someone else.

I just simply repeat back the things I've  been taught. Year after year repeating thought after thought.

A collection of opinions, words of others that I spout. Seems the easy way, so I open my mouth and they fall out.

The politicians and teachers and experts and the news. Have radically systematically denied my freedom to choose.

Unwitting copycat and imitator who historically repeats himself.  Without a genuine idea, put my brain back on the shelf.

Has everything I've learned and believe and everything I  know, produced an unauthentic me, God help me if it's so.

A wealth of original ideas, that would be my kind of wealth. If not take what I've  got and put my brain back on the shelf.

If that's what it takes:
I'll pluck a strand of her hair, make myself small,
use it as a rope and climb down her throat.
Hike to her heart and set up camp there.

Make myself smaller and surf through her veins,
get to know her inside out,
set up shop in her brains.
Paddle round her ear canal,
get some ear wax.
Whisper that I need her,
But yell I love her, yell it to the max.

I'll  go out of my way:
I'll show her, help her, always to buy her.
Pamper her, preen her, never deny her.
Take her, forsake her, defend her from factions.
Proof of love is based not just on emotions...but actions.

That's what I'll do:
With hearts a pumping, bodies thumping, glands a screaming.
That's one way to show off loves true meaning.
But after fun, there's work to be done, under the sun.
After all, someone's got to pick up the dry cleaning.

Then I'll finally know:
I'll done coo her, done woo her,
no leaf left unturned.
My heart open and hoping, not to get burned.
All this work will be put into my many satisfactions,
Proof of love is based not just on emotions... but actions.