I can't top Simonides
I won't even try
But, blue and stars
Are always on my mind
If I could lie
Upon
A bed of soft, wet grass
And dream, and think of what is to come next,
I would do this every night
From the pale setting of the sun
To the soft moon's rise
Life would be easy
And I'd quit thinking
Of my sorrowful, possible demise.
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
I can't top Simonides
I won't even try
But, blue and stars
Are always on my mind
If I could lie
Upon
A bed of soft, wet grass
And dream, and think of what is to come next,
I would do this every night
From the pale setting of the sun
To the soft moon's rise
Life would be easy
And I'd quit thinking
Of my sorrowful, possible demise.
