Maybe, maybe not…
The days of abuse have taken their toll.
The seasons have let loose…gone…beyond control.
The blood of diamonds amass…upon the floor
a washed by tastes of disgust…more, more, more.
Always, ‘do you think you’ve got this far…without me’
Maybe, maybe not, we shall see.
Frivolously masked in cynic’s armor,
hemp and smokey…big books disgracing the walls.
Not much to look at…hazardous and deadly when you fall.
Not bad? Not good?
Save for the white princess in the white collar hood.
Painted pretend pony on a porch
rocking and rolling…in due course.
Just the shakes today
given the usual watered down weaving way.
Not into abstract art
put the flame to the spoon…
it will all make sense soon.
Love is the only drug…getting in the way…
living in the day to day…fray.