this garden of green
(and a little bit of yellow and pink)
    is full of life
         and lies.  I have told
my stories to the plants
and flowers
on this garden of green
many times before, hoping
they'd talk or, perhaps, love
me back.

i have been wishing
for a firefly
to come to this healthy
garden of green
of mine, and none came.

And i'm glad.
i cannot **** a firefly.
something so precious and rare,
i cannot **** or imprison or limit it.
i will be too powerful it is making me
Crazy

a benign laugh
for every ludicrous act
   (laugh out loud, my dear)

to heed and to conform with

the injustices of life,
that you aren't mine
         (and I
                     am yours)

is rather amusing
and divine.