I carved a tree out of mud
Laid a great wall outside
Set fire to wood, burning bright
I sat down and got lost in thoughts

Thought of the past
A train rushing past
Sun shining desert hot
Green rising from grass

The ultimate picture frame
hung from ceiling instead of wall
lit up by a candle light
laughed at by Johns and Stuarts

The poor ones, the pale ones
living for the sake of hoping
laughing for the sake of coping
crossed off of everyone’s hearts

A drop and then two in the yard
And when they’re not falling, the stars
The stars twinkle in no one’s eyes
And the clouds take on no one’s cries

The cynic slaps my hand
Rides a wave of unfamiliar trends
Yells into my ear to stay true
to the future I had planned

Fine by me, master of grand
Throw away the peeled skin
Let the ring melt away in between
Let the bright blue shine through
and wipe away all the sand

Half red and half yellow lurk
among the ash gray of the ashes
Hear me out, I’m making a call
May the rain rise and the flame fall

May solitude scream in vain
May insanity win the argument from sane
May cripple run on four legs free
May shiver freeze in hundred degree

But increasingly, I stitch threadlessly
Furiously, I take it out on soft cotton sheets
I rip apart the plain side and not the seams
I assemble heavy to unwanted needs

And now I’m holding onto a brittle thought
Abstinence from the heavenly fruit
Sliding down the waterslide without a chute
All but a tasteless risk diet, a tactless salute

I’m starved for a reason to continue
I’m too exhausted of the plan to see through
I’m sure somebody is waiting on the other end
to furnish my barren mind with a tantalizing clue