The flowers are in bloom
In this majestic tree
That must have stood here
For decades
It still produces
After all these years
The dandelions gather strength
From the sun and the summer rain
The grass is greener on this side
The bushes that are to bear fruit
Pull their energy from the soil
Tirelessly filling our lungs
With clean air
The sunset is beyond compare
Painting the sky
In all variations of orange and pink
The silence of the approaching dawn
Is only suggested
By the grace of the setting sun
On the bench in this garden
Sat Death casually
Smoking a ***
With a distracted frown on his face
Waving away the passing butterfly
Coughing from the depth
Of his lungs
And spitting out the slimes.
May 7, 2016
May 7, 2016 at 12:03 PM UTC
The flowers are in bloom
In this majestic tree
That must have stood here
For decades
It still produces
After all these years
The dandelions gather strength
From the sun and the summer rain
The grass is greener on this side
The bushes that are to bear fruit
Pull their energy from the soil
Tirelessly filling our lungs
With clean air
The sunset is beyond compare
Painting the sky
In all variations of orange and pink
The silence of the approaching dawn
Is only suggested
By the grace of the setting sun
On the bench in this garden
Sat Death casually
Smoking a ***
With a distracted frown on his face
Waving away the passing butterfly
Coughing from the depth
Of his lungs
And spitting out the slimes.
Sister: you look filled with the Spirit and Divinity as you sit there, about to meditate, next to your coffee and cigerettes.
Me: the good thing about spirituality is that there's no one around to judge you.
Sister: judging you right here.
