**** jenkins says to drink more water
I’ve been dehydrated
living at sea, pirated
but here's some tea, I made it
to some knee high waves
passing my feet, I wade
and start to deep dive away
into some me time, maybe
now I see why I felt
Like I was 3 lives away from
something sweet, like honey
from a beehive, I think
I tried to deny away that
It was me, my way of
painting free skies grey, as
if my green eyes glazed and
then left me blind to rays of
blue that define days and
nights, that we find stay in
every designed way the
sun and streetlights aim their
light at things like bays where
Otis sings tides away and
water brings life paving
ways for tree lines, shaving down
the screen time slavery where
pictures we like wave at
us from behind eight gigs
of our own devices, waiting
for an e-vite to say, “welcome
to the free life”, take us
back to T-9, making typos
due to key size, lately I
drop speed by lacing
life with Jeep drives, break from
running it’s the Suite Life, saved time
is a dream mined straight from
underneath shrines made to
teach us “decline today, to-
morrow’s reclined shade is
worth the bee line”, race against
the streamlined weight of
the “keep grinding” wages, get
your lease signed, waive your
rights to free fly, pay with
card get denied, straying
from the street signs may just
get you steep fines, say that
we can realize today that
we can reply, “hey, let’s
fall asleep by the lake and
watch the leaves fly away and
maybe drink wine that tastes a
little refined, play some
songs that beat right against
the heart and keep finding ways
to really greet life amazed
by every tweet by jays of blue
that leap by faith into
the color”
Sep 16, 2019
Sep 16, 2019 at 12:11 PM UTC
**** jenkins says to drink more water
I’ve been dehydrated
living at sea, pirated
but here's some tea, I made it
to some knee high waves
passing my feet, I wade
and start to deep dive away
into some me time, maybe
now I see why I felt
Like I was 3 lives away from
something sweet, like honey
from a beehive, I think
I tried to deny away that
It was me, my way of
painting free skies grey, as
if my green eyes glazed and
then left me blind to rays of
blue that define days and
nights, that we find stay in
every designed way the
sun and streetlights aim their
light at things like bays where
Otis sings tides away and
water brings life paving
ways for tree lines, shaving down
the screen time slavery where
pictures we like wave at
us from behind eight gigs
of our own devices, waiting
for an e-vite to say, “welcome
to the free life”, take us
back to T-9, making typos
due to key size, lately I
drop speed by lacing
life with Jeep drives, break from
running it’s the Suite Life, saved time
is a dream mined straight from
underneath shrines made to
teach us “decline today, to-
morrow’s reclined shade is
worth the bee line”, race against
the streamlined weight of
the “keep grinding” wages, get
your lease signed, waive your
rights to free fly, pay with
card get denied, straying
from the street signs may just
get you steep fines, say that
we can realize today that
we can reply, “hey, let’s
fall asleep by the lake and
watch the leaves fly away and
maybe drink wine that tastes a
little refined, play some
songs that beat right against
the heart and keep finding ways
to really greet life amazed
by every tweet by jays of blue
that leap by faith into
the color”