DG89

I often wonder sitting still of what is my – no need to steal, of what is life beyond the reel,

When life, it happens on the real, of share of Pavlov in my will, it’s hard to live and hard to kill,

Of what life brought and forced to leave, and gifting guilt, and loss, and grief,

And elevation of belief, when you abandoned lonely cliff, and fly beneath, however brief,

Misunderstanding your motif, you might as well just go and leave,

Transverse from random, bright, and brief, to be the champion, the gift,

To steal a purpose, like a thief, to be the change, the mental shift,

To give a hand and to uplift, be in the know, catch the drift,

Be on the go, travel bug, but where you go is the rub.

I’d rather drop the illest rhyme, than be a power pantomime,

Marionette lives on a dime, but in the head it’s not the same.

I go through days, however lame, without drama, pain, and shame,

So, why or why it’s so insane, as if I’m living through migraine of everyone around me.

And I put up a fair screen, but seldom going for the win.

Win comes around, it belongs, my essence begs and pants and groans

My days are painted in red, and blue, and purple, and vignette,

And true and simple is the end, but till you die, just pay the rent

On days in which you operate, when you’ve been chosen, paid, and laid,

With whom you laid, or how great life felt that moment, and you said:

The moment, please, don’t ever end, don’t ever cease, you’re such a tease,

I love myself in every piece of every action and intent.

I love to vent, and cause consent, I take what’s given, nothing more.

Forevermore, it ain’t no more, I shudder to my very core,

I hate the war, adore the lore, and always, always ask for more.

The mind I tore from door to door, and when a loser, never sore.

I sleep and rest, but not enough, I live so well and yet, so rough.

I wrap my tude with nervous laugh, and wrap my rhyme, like it’s enough.

But words are pouring, can’t be stopped, but thoughts are racing, and erupt.

The thought of losing never popped, the hope for better never stopped,

So here I sit, my dreams are chopped, but vibrant in rainbow light.

I know I’m right, and I just might, be right enough to always laugh,

To always shine, while drinking wine, and cheese and grapes, and crepes and dates,

I’m losing count of the days, and of my thought, so I just thought that I already said a lot. Arrivederci on the dot.