Oh the Cosmos, oh, oh the Cosmos
call it curiosity
so many things meant
something to me
prejudice and superstition
that isn’t all there is to it
yet there is something here
a mission
don’t ask me to be your messenger
your bastard
I’ve been hung out
Look at this another
aching night
sick anxious
worn and strung out
but I smile thinking
about the Cosmos
and every crazy thing in it
no matter how long I hold on
five hundred thousand hours
of contemplation
will not show me more
than a tiny bit
No comments:
Post a Comment