Biscuit bushes crash my landing
Stumbling from here to there
Upside down maps in a field of grass;
Whatever the cost.
Twin bed of memories;
I couldn’t sleep tonight.
I couldn’t crumble my formulated wealth
Into sub-sectional mastery.
But if I was a truth say’er
Gifting this shit into inexperienced hands…
If I was withered like soul-less dumplings
I’d be the better man, smoking gaily.