Poetry

May be bliss to some

but uneducated leads to exploitation

and slavery

whether of the body

or the mind

is merely an outcome

of thinking

everyone else has the answers

and they will save you.

They won’t.

Food is universal.

Fast food chains in particular.

Yet, even so

the taste is not the same.

Different ways of raising the meat

and even the water used in the bread

all combine to make fussy eaters – fussier!

I can not be sick!

I have things to do.

I have errands to run.

People to call.

Statements to gather.

Places to visit.

So sleeping in bed is not allowed!

Which is why that is where I really want to be.

Maybe it was preferences?

Perhaps because we were sick?

Or it could simply be

That the quality of the ingredients

Just were not what we were expecting.

So while we thought all food in this fast food chain

Should all be the same,

Apparently they are not.

We obviously have better beef!

Coughing fit over.

Plane has landed.

We made it over the bridge.

The sun has risen.

Let us see

If the day’s

New adventures

Will Allow us

To cry our battle cry

Once more.

Not dead, Yay!

States Title boy

As he navigates the asteroids

And space debris.

He chuckles nervously.

I clutch white knuckled

And pray that we stay that way!

Work is done.

Last weekend of summer.

Official or unofficial?

Who cares.

I get to sleep in.

My words.

Creation involved.

Meaningless or thoughtful?

Does anyone care?

Sounds recorded on a page.

Ghost writer, I am not.

Coughing my lungs out.

Head pounding.

Nose dripping like a faucet.

Fever comes and goes.

At least I had a few days of fun before this laid me low.

Hurting people.

Not respecting them.

Enslaving them.

To turn around

To helping them.

Making sure laws were made

So others cannot hurt them.

All that could be said

Was a change of heart.