I’m waiting on the boom
my mind elating in my room
it’s like I’m witness to the doom
the mistress, mystifying gloom.
The sun, without a place to set
two lovers you have never met
the memories that you forget
the rain that never gets you wet.
If I were to summarize
the depth of my lover’s eyes
where hazel and wholesome lies
the gaze that should hold a prize.
If I must elaborate
on trust that I’ve had to hate
or lust that I’m glad was late
I’ll just pass, you’ll have to wait.
Your boat over the ocean and into the wild
in so many motions the glimpse of a child
who’s hopelessly floating with hints of a smile,
since nobody noticed the forecast was mild.
Try to ignore it, the truth of the matter
to face or pretend, everyone picks the latter
if time would rewind I would keep getting fatter
the pain sheds like rain as it falls, pitter patter.
If I were to memorize
the days where I never cried
I’d patiently empathize
with the faces who never tried.
If I must commemorate
the ones who were never great
I’ll start with my mental state
and end there, let’s celebrate.
And there it goes
you better move, for thar she blows
I’m writing newly, here’s the flow
a liquid movement, fast to slow.
Six books under my belt, in suspension
it’s getting tighter, feel the tension
this book contains, now I should mention,
explosions of another dimension.