All the **** time
These mosquitos buzz profusely
Around my throbbing ears
Begging for attention
And O the attention they so crave
Is gifted by the swat of my hand
The turn of my attention
These ****** mosquitos try to
Imbue my mind with mindless thoughts
Thoughts about superficiality
About insignificance
About the lies of the world
These ****** mosquitos permeate
My skin with their razor blades
Mixing blood types
I am always asked
If I am allergic to these parasitic creatures
That favor feeding off of individuality
And every single time
I reply
Telling them everyone
Is allergic to being infused
With blood that isn't supposed to run
Through their own veins by birthright
But no one understands
These small ******* creatures
Destroy even as just one
And an entire race of them
Destroys and entire race
Of individuality

Yesterday in a court of law,
I was called a Sir.

I carried on the proud lineage
Of men before me,
Who fought and died for their country
And loved without abandon.

Pasta makers, butcher's boys,
Painters, and writers.
I claimed my place among the ranks,

One I had dreamed of
As a child,
Staring into the face
Of my great-grandfather
And his father before him.

Cast aside the brush and let me take your palms
We’ll place sadness and loneliness at the horizon
As we watch from the shores where the waves are calm
And take the ink to the canvas to extend our peace
With our symbolic love; so that the horizons
Become our serene paradise, to match our hearts
With our eyes. Our hearts will walk together
Beyond the horizon, further than our vision could ever
Take us.

I've been to beautiful beaches
I've felt the sand beneath my feet
Standing there in that open breeze
I've never felt more free

I've seen enormous cities
I've rushed around all day
Standing in that electric crowd
I've never felt this way

I've climbed the greatest mountains
I've had my breath taken away
Standing nearly in the sky
I've never seen the earth this way

I've come to realize one thing
I've been running and running from something
Standing on the moonlight shore
I've never felt this way before

☁️

In the front yard
Over toward the left
Beside the climbing tree
Under the branches of the magnolia
Is a garden of dahlias
And a pond of water lilies
Which is great for hiding a body
If the need ever arises

So what happens when Jill
Comes running down the hill
Crying to Mary and her lamb
About how Jack had laid a hand
On her now ever-present frown
Spinning her head round
Jill is bawling because she knows
For breaking Jack's crown she'd face death row?

Into the pond half the body goes
The other half helps to make the plants grow
The girls sit and talk over a cup of tea
When Jill ponders over the meaning of free
Certainly not the sirens blaring out front
This is when Mary stubs out her blunt
Wanted for suspected ****** with fear in her eyes
Poor Miss Jill would have rather died
She begged and she pleaded for some form of mercy
But she was tangled in a web of controversy
Little lamb taken into custody by law
Mary found face down in a bale of straw
Foaming at the mouth
***** plus pills equates to south
Hauled off to jail
And stomach pumped back from hell
The girls become shells of nothingness
Creating only emptiness

On the first day of the last week
A girl wrapped in gold did appear
She whispered to the people of the land
Who knew their ending was near
She softly uttered these words:
"This can all be avoided still
The destruction, the chaos
The end all be all"
     The people shouted and cursed
Throwing rocks and casting stones
They all wanted to just return home
Each worldly word fell on deaf ears
For the rocks and stones clouted
The girl of gold with fear
     On the second day of the final week
A boy clothed in silver did appear
He spoke to the people of the land
For he knew of the crimes they committed the day before
"You can repair the damages done
But only within one last day
You still somehow have hope"
     The mayor of these people
Stepped forth and pleaded with
His kin, his brethren
But his words fell on deaf ears
For he and the boy of silver
Were slaughtered by once innocent people
     On the third day of the final week
A screaming light tried to save them
But the darkness of the hearts of the land
Swallowed the light without thought
     Days later
On the final day of the final week
The world was visited by the four who died
Each voice was powerful
Each voice was echoing
The people had been warned
But now their choices came back for hauntings
Each rush of negativity ever uttered
On the now barren earth
Fueled the four deities who had tried to help
And their great power
Engulfed the world in flames

     On the first day of the first week after the final week
The grass was replenished
The sky was once again clear
The poison that rushed through the veins of those people
Finally eradicated
A new race emerged slowly
To repopulate the world
But they had not yet been created
So all that rested on the
First day of the first week after the final day of the final week
On a perfect green hill
Under a perfect blue sky
Grew a single flower
Seven petals
One for each day of the week