Gave you a taste of magic,
Sticks and stones in love—so beautifully tragic.
I’d give my world to be around your planet,
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?
A taste of line stuck in your jaw,
Decorating yourself—there’s a little decore.
I’m your centre piece in place of more,
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

All cuts and lip burns,
I was the very last—of every first,
Stars in perfect alignment; but all by force,
I was lost for words, biting my tongue; but not tasting hurt.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?
It’s a waste being young,
But adulthood is so painful—really no fun,
And I’ll be insecure knowing how not to make a girl ***,
Coming around to my place, and accidents of making a son.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

The high life highlights,
Bite size feelings, drinks of nightlife—so high!
Still scared of heights, and not having the right size,
As the killing factor of any man’s pride.
Why won’t it fit right, it doesn’t feel right, or quiet tight.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

Being around the block,
Waking up to the rooster—tickling ****.
“Where are my socks,“ letting borrow tops,
While topping someone off the top in slob,
Twisting your emotions, as you twisting the ****.
Just a tip cob—ain’t nothing wrong till it repeats tomorrow,
And there’s nothing more left sweet of that fleshy flower.
Was there anything else to do, anything else to prove!?

Just two curious people trying to prove they're good at ***,
Just an excuse to tidy up themselves after being a mess.
                                              They’re both just a mess!

Áureos buriles en pulido mármol
Graben su nombre; que su busto esplenda
Alto y severo; que su sien decore
Lauro apolíneo.

Musa del bardo que cantó las hondas
Selvas y ríos de la patria... Musa
Libre del Ande, que a su tumba vienes,
¡Pliega las alas!

Ara intocada de su ardiente culto
Fue siempre el Arte; y con unción votiva
Dio, como ofrenda a los eternos Númenes,
Ánforas bellas.

Arcade nuevo, de la selva andina
Hizo, en sus cantos, a los dioses templo;
Y ellos oyeron, de su lira acorde,
Clásicos ritmos

Himnos los suyos armoniosos fueron,
Cantos de hosanna, que cual triunfo vibran
Hoy, cuando extraños ¡Poesía sacra!
Ajan tu veste;

Veste que siempre fulguró distante,
Peplo de diosa en consagrado plinto,
Y hora, arambeles que en el hombro lleva
Vulgo profano.

Frentes se inclinan a su paso. El cielo
Radia en fulgores, y el silencio crece;
Y óyese, lejos, en azul de altura
Vuelo de águilas.

Raudo desfile sobre erial galopa...
¡Potros salvajes que cantó! Las crines
Sueltas al aire... y al tropel de cascos
Tiembla la pampa.

Potros pamperos... ¿Los oís? De polvo
Nubes levantan, y al tocar la cumbre
Rápido el viento, retrasado vuela,
Vuela tras ellos.

Rojas corolas cual la sangre suya,
Ecos de bosques y armonías altas,
Fueron de su alma, segador de ensueños,
Lírica siega.

Frente a sus ojos se extendió anchurosa
Selva de siglos, con inmensas aguas;
Tierra fecunda, y el azul cortando
Fúlgido el Huila.

Toda la tierra tropical; e inmenso
Campo a su vista, con hervir de savia;
Y ávido entonces de laureles, hizo
Suya la selva.

Sueña una garza en su visión de bosque,
Tiende a las ondas el nevado cuello,
Y alza en el pico, destellando en iris,
Vivida escama.

Fue claro río que en radiantes días
Ceibas y palmas contempló en sus ondas,
Y albo de espumas, reflejó de noche
Rubias estrellas.

Diáfano el cielo palpitó en su canto,
Alas de cimas por sus versos se oyen,
Y álzase de ellos, cual de vasos níveos,
Hálito eterno.

Áureos buriles en pulido mármol
Graben su nombre; que su busto esplenda
Alto y severo, y que su sien decore
Lauro apolíneo.

Waves from the beach match my waves for my drink
The waitress comes over and asks what’s my order
I said I can’t choose “I’m feeling like there’s clouds above me,
It’s been a rough few days and these double hotel rooms are bland and lonely.”
“Not a problem, sir.  I know just what to get to make you feel *****.
She comes back with a Hawaiian margarita.
It came with an umbrella which I set aside while saying thank you, Senorita.
I guzzled down the drink to reach the tequila faster,
But the wind picks up and it looks like a disaster.
I ask for one more, with the umbrella.
This fairy godmother returns with another margarita.
The buzz has transformed me like I’m Cinderella.
I leave a 20 at the table and walk towards the beach, ignoring the families with kids who all they do is screech.
Clutching both umbrellas, I walk to the shore
One of God’s many gifts for us to explore.
I never noticed how nice he made the decore.
Tequila is the only alcohol that’s an upper, or so I’ve been told.
But I enter the water even though it was cold
What happened next though was a story previously told,
My umbrellas caught air like Mary Poppins,
As I floated along the coast listening to Phil Collins.
The speakers down below blast the drum section from that one song,
And I stayed up there for I don’t know how long,
But when I descended,
My pain was suspended and my emotions were splendid.
So next time, when your mind feels cloudy and your thoughts are rowdy
Ask for a drink with an umbrella
You’ll soon find yourself smiling, cheesing more than mozzarella.

I’d like to think I am a force light ‘fusing to spark ‘ as dull is my presence’ deep within me is a light ‘ a light of hope that keeps me thriving ‘ a light of peace’ all forming into this combustion’s energy’ finding its way into a million stars ‘ as I form into this beautiful’ gleam .all that was negative is burned by the beauty of my ray ‘ all that was painful is decore with the illuminous of love