Gainesville, TX U.S.
Burned out hippies bring me down
Careful living bores my soul
Barry me into passionate journeys
Hills of flowers that seem to sway with blistful wind
Gracious water that knows not what rocks it will flow through
So it is that life is plain
Plain enough that narcodics can only bring piece
Then settled down the world still turns
People keep being people and mischief unto mischief
Barely we see what we should, and often we don't see barely enough
Oh the days in which I only feel the best time to write
Every word flows as if sweat juices that would like to be sucked up
Words begin to fit like a puzzle
That means nothing to people, but gives all the meaning in the world to the writer
So feelings turn into words and another day comes
While I am sleeping in imagination.....
This was written during English class, the last one I will take of my college carier..Major British Writers II...