On The Road
All I’ve known for the latter parts are bruising med locks and bags-
Filled with medications that lag, life fit for a kingdom of sad
For a spleen that goes bad, an attack on this heart that I’ve had
Tangled in blood cells that give up, at the brim of a glass
So to dream never lasts, in this morbid hospice harmonica
Organ failures block the corridors playing jazz electronica
Chemo for the warriors, that once took life as a prize,
Blood shot are the eyes of a little boy begging to die,
He got a piece of the pie and it breaks my heart from my room
As I listen to the bad news of patients accepting a tomb
They are leaving too soon, and I beg god for some hospitality-
To release me in sleep or allow me tremendous vitality
A medicated mentality or am I thinking clearer than day?
Give me a pint of suppressants and I’ll overcome a cliché
Any time any day, I just want that bohemian sunrise,
Opposite of the mountains where I can say I survived
An aplastic entity with the soul of a daisy, aesthetic and paisley,
And I wish the same god that made me
Wouldn’t take me away.