When it’s Monday
he usually laments it
When it’s Tuesday
he usually resents it
Then, comes Wednesday
he feels better about it
So, on Thursday
he can drink about it
On the weekend
he can’t care about it
and usually ignores
his feelings about it
It’s a cycle
that repeats without end
For come Monday morning
it starts over again

Three yellow birds
have died in a cage
Canaries in the coal mine
kept miners from their wage
“Got to get down there
I’ve got a family to feed
That’s more important to me
than the air that I need
I don’t care about the danger
It’s too late for me
In another year
I won’t be around to see
more birds dying
on account of me
Just open up the mine
and let me be”



And put Vincent’s drawings
where all can see

Where does a person's feelings lie
when a child can't afford to hate?
Maybe love
turned away many times
was no longer willing to wait

I remember myself
as a child
Busted out of my house
untamed and wild
Nary a care for fear
Couldn’t be bothered with loathing
Breathlessly waiting
for what the next moment would bring
Happy with
just about everything

I work hard
every day
to make things
go my way
So much so
that in fact
I lose sight
of how to act
While at work
I'd rather not
get myself
tied in a knot
If truth be known
I'd rather play
but, then again
I like the pay

Wise man say that if one is tired of
gaining weight at mere glance of food, one need only wear blindfold to dinner table

It had been a day
of holding back tears
Putting fingers in holes
of a leaky ****
A wall that had been sturdy
for so many years
crumbling into a person
I think I could like