Kick stand up at eight, two lane west to set me free Throttle through the gears, now it’s just Ester and me Relax down into the machine, the breeze blowing across my face Worry and troubles disappear, my mind is filled with grace
Birthdate of our nation, a day for thought and pride Easing down the highway, a gleam of hope in my eyes The mighty Mississippi now in my rearview mirror Riding without a helmet, a thing I hold so dear
Absent deliberate intervention vis a vis suicide, supposed “natural” longevity of generic human primate ride ding bareback across avast broke back mountain minus pride defies accurate prediction, though hypothetical projections can override unknown factors, whereby excluding misfortune nationwide (and/or globally
Goodbye, land and farewell, woman Never was the pleasure mine Of drunken slumber on your lap Nor the warmth of hand on hand Never the sizzle of lip on lip Or the balm of quietly being Never did I explore
I ain’t a poet, I ain’t a writer, I am just someone who’s gonna lose something soon. Who knew, eventually, colors would change over years, who knew, bidding bye would bring tears. Who knew, a thousand days, a million smiles,
the winds are becoming numbing needles to my skin again. the whistling of the night is entering the day covering up the sun to my happiness. the bullying was a distant memory from my mind now fresh to my soul.