Into the wild woods I’ll wander
To find the whimsy I seek.
I’ll jump right out at you!
Unless around you, I sneak.
Through the brambles and tangles
I’ll make my advances,
And try to decipher
Some flat, subtle glances.
When the smell of the season
Seeks to haunt my poor head,
And I know of no reason
To part from my bed.
When the images are stitched,
But somehow grow as a seed,
I’ll embrace the journey,
And get lost in the ****.
The reflections we saw,
Were they yours, ours, or mine?
Were I to unlock your eyes
Would they open up mine?
If I stayed awake forever
Could I feast on the moon?
Were I to aide your endeavour
Would you think it a boon?
When the truth lies beneath sludge
Under a murky, dark pond,
I’ll temper my grudge.
And try to move right along.
When life lights up too little
There’s a treatment I need,
With the ice and the water,
I’ll get lost in the ****.
Born of misspeaking, but a great comfort still.
When you wallow in weakening, it can bolster your will.