Simple as can be

I haven't written a poem a song for you
Everything is on the back burner
I haven't sat and howled at the moon all night long
for you
since I was 15 and 27 with more than a mild hang over
The lunacy you speak of is herecy or heresay and I don't believe it anymore
I wake and walk in these tall boots, simple as can be

Maybe it's my laziness that has it's backlash in the simple things
which seem big and as great as can be
when writing is the only journey I care to
continue to record my life this way

I'm just a poet nothing more nothing less
with an eye for fancy a knack for style
a desire to be oh so pretty
you and me, and a sewing machine
but you know I have this drive
crazy neurotica ambition
a devilish badass from the outside

who cares really if I cry in the mornings
who cares really if I die of anxiety at night
who cares really that my hairs are graying by the droves
I still have no children and nothing to control

I'm essentially free, free as a bird
and I have nothing to lose or let go.