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FOUR A.M. FREE FLOW  


Screwed up so many times
Cannot seem to get it together
Sit here think of younger years
When there was not so much bad weather:

The seasons come
The seasons go
They plant their seeds
The babies grow
What of old age
Of youth far gone
The kids are raised
For what is there to live upon

When all you lived
Most your adulthood
Was raising them
The best you could
Financial losses
Physical woes
Life it costs
More than one knows

The raps come out
Late in the night
As you're in a red chair
To write and write
Just as a queen
Upon a throne
With scribes and voice
Her reign be know

Throughout the land
To lowly steed
Far and away
Take lonely breed
Who make mistakes
Then mourns the dues
That come from
Living all night blues

Where quiet comes
As clocks tick on
The sound prevails
Her sun is gone
This world it sleeps
While poets race
With scribbling pen
Mind-hand to face

Into another universe
Where poet time is all
Begone O' world, you worldly curse
This grounded angel's bound to fall
Then low as dirt, she shall become
Until the light's again on high
The jewel of heaven will shine down
Illuminating light with sound.


5/18/2013 0404 cj  







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