Sunday, May 8, 2011

     Death and still being alive.
The apple drops, to stop.  Into the timeslot -
Of getting old and starting to rot.
     When a neighbor appears, and stares -
At what’s not forgotten when it dies.
Birds eat what’s on the ground.
And travel into the skies.
    Spurts of time collaborate on my mind.
Because you can’t subtract the act.
And you can’t reunite the pact.
Life isn’t about being exact.
     It’s about blending in when you need to survive.
And standing out on the inside.
And this time I’m gonna walk down the path that’s lit.
I’ll leave the shadows for another’s sorrows.
And round the corner on my life, unborrowed.
     There ain’t no race to fill up empty space -
When you always take it all in.
Every grin.  Every mixed up serpent spin.  
Every choke.  From every bloke, who’s forgotten my face.
     And I’ll keep my bad habits.  
And I’ll recognize the good ones in others.
I’ll push when I want to push.  Shove when I want to shove.
Show love, if it sprouts and buds.
     I live because I want to live.  We are all the same like that.
You died so long ago.  But I still remember what you loved; me.

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