Wind blows for others and crawls for you
Ocean sprays for others yet crashes on you
Luck is good and fun, unless it’s headed to you
You’re accosted by expected disease
and happily certain in merciful death
Doctor says you’ll definitely live many years
And as always with you, in there lies the rub
Medicated bed and chronic discomfort for a mate
Clothed in bleached and starched garb
And all chant the same damn thing
‘Thank your lucky stars’ !
Bathing in the waters of ridiculous dimensions
and conversing with perplexed owls
All the while in a state of so-what nude
Let stolen leaves and moss barely clothe me
As I walk straight into a stern judging moon
Happily guilty, my childishly plea
Sentence is, of course, having to wake up
I have one cent
I have one dollar
Ten cents!
Ten dollars!
Twenty five cents
Twenty five thousand dollars!
I still have so much more than you
I’m richer than you, dummy
What good is wealth if you have no common sense (cents)
No benevolent savior is coming
There’s no safety line this time
Plan B is forgotten yet again
Forever escaped while you slept
Succinctly, you ran out of time
Sole resource is untrustworthy at best
Of course, you know sole resource is you
We could have been happy
But you refused to leave
You leave. Not the money
The cash never said no to me
I’d rather sleep with my St. Bernard
He drools less than you
Oh now you want to tie me up!
I’m so not turned on by this
Are you burning my clothes?
Stop sawing my designer shoes!
Where’s my customized mini cooper?
Wait baby. Don’t leave me
Did you already pay the rent?
Mystical Northern Lights grace us
Fruitlessly yet happily I reach out
If immortality could be granted
This enamored soul would become
An undulating rhythmic band
Colored in Godly reds, blues and greens
Night guardian of frozen tundra and peaks
Mythmaker of ancient stories and dreams
The world is truly unworthy
Crocheted black thong bikini
Naughty crimson crushed velvet cape
FM boots reaching mid-thigh wonders
Jet black nails, lips and hair
Comic-Con mistress needs no whip
She rules bearded geeks with a look
Navigating rooms on virgin backs
Faux vampire suitors in real coffins
Begging for Twilight sex
Dark mistress explodes with cackles
Then states, even if you were 18
My man has to be gainfully employed
Your precious rights
thrive underground
Shake righteous fist
at your empty crowd
Beloved boy is free at last
No earthly limits
No hateful air to breath
They are yours now
Grand lawful killer
with legal cross to bear
But you have your rights
To live in shadows of the free
With dangerous whispers and eyes
Outside secret locked windows and doors
Medicated Words 