Assume I can do moreA Poem by Serp-Verda
To all those who pose
mornings and days when you wake up and there are just no words in your head to describe something that you have in mind, and the essence of it all is thick enough to cut up with knives and evenly distribute it all to the pieces of s**t that forget that you are something more and something greater than their dressed up silent and dashing DOG. mornings when you can just forget that time is eating itself away and you can just lay in bed and watch the shadows change on the wall and then you remember that's all they ever do. shadows change and maybe the thing that you found was drowning and dark might actually be something you'd rather swim in, and you can be sure that these kinds of things you now bathe aren't the kinds of lights that get yellowy-hot and burn holes in your skin when you only ever hoped and expected them to keep you sunny and warm. mornings when you are not really in the places where your old masters have had you wake up to them but you aren't really in a bright lit room with red sheets and sunshine enough to heat up the roofs and trees and doors of your heart. mornings when you roll around in a quiet light and sail through a pink purple pool of thoughts and suddenly you realize no all this time it's been 4:00 in the day and you haven't felt an output of passion in so long that there's a dryness on your palms that doesn't go away no matter how much their sweating and you haven't really gotten out of the cage the old people placed you in to keep you on display even though the bars are down and the road's all open in every direction your still standing with your ears burning and your heart on fire because the lights still setting you bright orange but for some reason your not covering up and not running away.
It's midday now.
there's sunlight and crows outside, and maybe, possibly a whole world....but I'm content in my bed. Why should i feel guilty for doing something i was never allowed to do in the past just because you think its bad? I am happy lying in my awakening and dreaming of my happiness as I live it in a glorious content passion that cannot be meaningful to anyone with longing for they aspire.
I am content. I am satisfied. My life is not over, it has only just begun, and I am content in my midday's awakening.
© 2010 Serp-Verda
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