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Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Whozit Rag

He like walking meditation, seldom goes on a vacation, enjoys his trashy books, soups and casseroles he cooks, in public he is charming, writes in ways that are heart warming, can’t sing at all, not a lick, can’t dance either, it’s just sick, he has known a deeper sorrow, still sees a bright tomorrow, likes to walk without a care, simply strolling, being there, other poets he is wooing, not always knowing what he’s doing, he isn’t rich but doesn’t mind, knowing he can still be kind, has his ways to find his worth, still has hope for Mother Earth, keeps the future sharp in sight, knows the past ended last night, has no room for pain and woes, much to do before he goes, strives with all his might, not for correct things, but the right.

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