Surely these surly bits
Must be burrs caught up in my
Makeup -
Making up reasons for
Why my spit was accidental.
I done been through a
Rough patch or two -
Crawling with these
Thorns in my knees
Across funky plateaus
That poke their chests out
In their scouts
For sunnier flora.
Though,
I assume their search
Didn't go over so well.
'cause these scabbings won't heal
Like I want them to,
Buried under gobs of
Ointment
That was supposed to take care of it
(And
One more bandage
Just in case).
I'm just moseying on through,
With my feelers out,
Making sure you're someone
I have to know.
In and on my way
Somewhere
In this crazy field,
Waiting for sunflowers
To bless my prayers
While I continue to
Make room for myself to
Slip past
Without being noticed.
I'm smiling so hard
To keep the soft-hearted
At bay -
Trying to avoid being forced
Into pinpoint relations
With clueless drifters
Who refuse to stay on their side.
They only mean well -
I know this,
I do.
But, the simple has yet to escape me.
Send your
Sympathies
To the weak ones,
Roleplaying
Alongside the meek,
For these are the creed
Who,
Without giving heed,
Deliver their lives
To bliss.