Can I tell you something?
Sometimes, you are a sheep...
If you are like me
You like a good holiday...
With the hard bristle brush
I take to my flesh...
Take my pen;
I have no need for empty words...
My "Queen of Soul"
you took your last breath...
I had a vision of a blue mountain
with wings at the bottom...
traveling down the road
that's leading from home...
Knuckles cut, gouged and bleeding.
My mouth and lungs filled with dust...
I socialized today
with other decent human beings...
I still remember
the day...
once, I heard
your laughter...
I do not have a halo,
But a circular spinning disc...