Friday, July 9, 2010

1997.

I used to eat grass and dirt
And played pretend
And stained my shirt.
And I didn't care
When something got lost
Because I was too busy observing
All the dew and the frost.
And I always ran with bare feet
In the neighbor's backyard
And all through the the street.
Then when the rain came down
There were no umbrellas
No complaining, no frowns

but Excitement

With the thunder claps
and hiding in a cave of sheets
Drawing our own treasure maps.
I didn't need something special
just to have a good time
Acting like a lunatic
wasn't such a crime.
I wasn't blowing smoke
To keep from going insane
It was just me.
Just me and my brain.
And it wasn't so clear to me
That those years ago
I was more free.
More free then, I suppose
I ever again will be.

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