suffocated by the noise
the blanket of the week
then space solitude empty
caged by the weekend
what happened to the one who got up got out and went?
where is the bliss in this emptiness of discontent?
breakfast, coffee water shed
your jeans your t-shirt, dirt spent
silver rings on your fingers
indian art on the backside of my hand
henna art
body art you crave to instill some movement creativity onto your soul
your body
words, unnecessary ruffness in them
when it could be left behind at home
in the room, where you retreat,
not spend the whole day
fuck the dust that settles on cheap wood
focus, forsee the words that replaces these slices
work write forget the words in their brain
suggesting what you know
is true
but there is more to come
this they may wish not
but when you do what you gotta do
things will happen inevitabley
keep it up my friend
the road is long and has been
the path is never ending
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