21 November 2012
Grey misty
Sand to mud and yellow to green;
Scents of dead leaves and lost grapes.
Drying cannabis aromas surround the scenes
Humans conscious habits erode sins of days past and unseen.
Half a day away concrete covers everything.
Boys wear hand me down shoes with holes
Girls who's toes have not felt grass ground
Never smelled a rose
Sad souls with dark cracks
All the while lavish upper class have never drawn blood from mistake or overuse.
Silly how someone so fragile can refer to others as ref fuse.
So silly that we don't mix the yellow and green
We as humans try so hard to separate sand from mud
Hissing at lost grapes and hiding our dead leaves.
So while I smoke this ganja my thoughts turn to dreams
Grey mist breaks
Sun shines and leaves
Grey Mist Breaks Sunshine • Opuss № I