Sometimes I feel broken
or at least slightly bent
Like dreams when awoken
life just got up and went
There’s an ache in my spirit
There’s a turd in my hand
And all hope for the future
is now pounding the sand
Pounding sand
Then she
comes to me
She comes to me
Fee and willing
passion chilling
this wretched sea
This foul fantasy
She comes to me
Bygone power now mustard
courses firmly though me
Afore fear is all flustered
grows giddy, bends the knee
There’s a song in my manner
There’s a flame in my heart
As if games former random
are now fresh from the start
Freshly start
She
‘s come to me
She’s come to me
Fee and willing
passion thrilling
this welcoming sea
This soul reverie
She’s come to me
——
Blessed…
m(___)m
