Settle down, Underpants, Tinkling. Wrong meanings wrong words. Soon we will wake up in a dream. This is not part of my poem. It starts here.
There is a lake.
It is green.
Not just green.
It is dotted.
Like a mushroom.
The cows are gazing upon a dotted sky.
Black and white.
Is it yellow?
I wonder, what’s more.
I guess there’s more yellow than white.
Do you mind?
Ripples are in the water.
Red and blue.
I have no clue.
Blood is everywhere.
Yet there is happiness within you.
Is there kind?
Upon a bank of sand.
Stars are what we demand.
Why not hurry.
Do we gain.
From endless pain?
In the end,
We will pretend,
To be a friend of men
And women.
My perceptions are endless,
I have a book to address.
Superiority.
Is in the definition of minority.
Why bother?
Can’t you smother, what’s within your reach?
A peach is like endless peace.
A dream of orange, yet foreign.
What’s there?
The end, is meant.
Who decides.
Someone resides?
Control is there,
Peace is not pear.
Life is short.
Is it not?
What’s long?
My way is long.
Down from the hillside.
Where the people.
Lalalalala.
Stop me now.
Have you heard of the crow.
They collect 1941.
It’s no fun anymore. Save me from the bore. Is it a pig?
It’s not.
Supersticious. Like a friend.
Have fun.
