Lately it feels wrong to write,
It feels like there’s not enough time
For what I’m trying to do,
For what I’m trying to say,

I feel trapped in a room
That recollects memories
Like a homeless man
Collects pennies and dimes
And blesses the people who
Give it to him.

Instead I get summer rains,
Days passing by,
A roof over my head,
And maybe, just maybe,
I’ll get blessed with a wonderful day
Where nothing matters,
Not even the rain,
Nor these invasive thoughts
That go knocking at my door.

I open the door to say hi,
They always lead with smiles
And open arms,
This time they tell me to let my car deform itself around a tree,
To hug it and never let it go.

But it’s one of those days I don’t care
About what they say,
So they left leaving a little pamphlet behind.