Almost midnight here
Rained most of the day
Plans for yard work
Turned to mushy grass
That had no class
With the lawnmower
And weed eater choking
For dry
It was a day to rest
Monday's are like that
After the young of the weekend
Were all the fun to know
And love
Good night
Time to pray to
Better above me
Because below me is hell
I am good enough for that
But not quite ready
Stay steady
As wet grass
And kiss my cracker ass
If you don't care about your soul
Who will
No one
Because those without the souls
Are murderers killing me off
Sick with a cough
Teeth hurt too
Remove the diseased parts
Is what someones going to do
When you die
So live
At the rain
For too long your gone
No fingers to type
No mind to gripe
No pen to move
Guess I'm here
In this wet groove
Wish you were instead
Goodnight gentlemen
I'll be your friend
But you are not here to mow this yard
Life's so hard
Oh well
Fiddle dee dee
Is all I have to tell today
So goodnight
I'm going away
Like before
I was born
Before the perfect storm came
And put me to sleep
Into the black of night
Where it's okay
And I am right
Back to the light of the sun
See you later, you, poetry bum.

6/Monday/2012 2350 cj

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