home poem BIG UP YOURSELF

BIG UP YOURSELF

Think I was about 17 or 18 here. Little spiritual challenges.

Spending twenty years in confusion
Heading to the future with no made decision
Swearing pain to the listening Father
Will my senses ever tick better?
SLAP OUCH

Having images of ecstasy hands
prophesies of leading the global clans
but Monday is day today
and Monday Im asking plans for the way
SLAP OUCH

Look up high with a glass of whisky
asking for the answer
Hi my names Zippy & Im a revolutionary
And what revolution might that be
Dont know as the Father has bot told me
SLAP OUCH

You carry on praying & screaming
trying to find some sort of answer
What is in that foggy future?
Stop for a second and listen

“I want no peace for the angry soul of hatred and the dignity has been lost for we are all pink umbrellas that flow with the wind and hide from the rain.”

Aint got a clue
as I sit back and go loony like a fool.
SLAP OUCHSLAP OUCHSLAP OUCHSLAP OUCH
I then big up myself and try and act cool

I get a busy streak and cheer up to the buzz
then I sleep till August
Then people ask how life has been
Shake the Head
Cross the fingers
“Its been like a dream”

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