A dab
of you
Is all
I ask.

Im glad
I grew
Out of the
That fad

Cuz
empty space is
really full of
energy field
fluctuations.

tempting gazes
Usually turn out

empty of real
appreciation.

Running races
Only matters
If the finish
line is stationary

Please don't carry me away.

Sublime
But rushed
Here me
Compete

It's time
For lunch
Dear please
Come eat

Who's this she you sing about in almost every song?
maybe she does not exist. Maybe she's pretend or gone.
Or maybe you have yet to find her but she loves to hear you sing
If she's real and if she's out there I promise she's not listening.
Cuz most the world has more to think about them rhymes writ by a boy.
And by the time I'm good and famous I'll be bitter and destroyed.
And passing up any good opportunity that comes my way,
At least that's how the ones I admire lived out most of their days.

I know there's hope for something different, But if tragedy exists,
Then systematic eradication of this turbulence
is what I'll need to make a breakthrough, broken bones bask in the heat,
Of the desert to remind us of the forgotten deceased.

Are you the weary broken traveller, a long way from her home?
Are you beginning to remember that the future can't be owned.