Watering my muse 

​I sit outside 

Watching the plants 

Stand up and move 

With the soft morning breeze, 

An old woman sadly smiles 

As she struggles to go up

The coline she’s climbing 

On her way to the supermarket. 

The sun is up in the sky 

At the same place the moon was 

Yesterday when I woke up,

Cars and people pass by 

The world keeps spinning around 

And I sit here 

Smoking old cigarettes 

Reading dead people poetry 

Listening dead people music

And there’s so many life outside 

Yet I sit tight 

And begin to write. 

The noise is getting bigger 

Even Henson can’t make it fade 

So I turn my thoughts away 

As I try to finish this writing 

And I laugh at possibilities 

As I hide and run 

And Death may be close 

As I’m surrounded by smoke

But I have another though 

So it won’t be nice 

But I’ll leave all this behind 

Trying to be the man 

I once dreamed I was. 

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