I could write a song

1000 miles is known, you ask for one
You make me realize
I could ride, just ride
To find you with a smile

And yes, I could write a song
To get your blueberry kisses
To make honey that is one of a kind
So lets skip this part of fearlessness and desireless
and all about leaving it simple
And yes i could write a song.

just a feeling

Yes, simple it is for seeds to scatter
concealed within, feeling all belonged
conceiving of the possibilities as you break out
while putting your self in line
just in time to realize the hunger

get swallowed down just when you open your eyes
hovering, running to get beneath yet again
so it’s the second try
to stretch out the roots
to catch the light, hoping the right time

negated it was the perseverance of the seed
felt foraged as a fodder by all the outgrown
stomping, rambling cutting my own
was it to follow all the rest?
or will the roots dig deeper
but for all I wish
is for the shoot to “be”
an austere yet a particular “be”

ITS THE AFTER WORLD