Three houses set in stone
I am bored to the fucking bone
of everything I once counted on,
something I hold close
Maybe kids reap death from hybrids
of former evenly spread eyelids,
asking cautiously at their predictions
Travels underground make time for other things,
including dust settling shackles to be broken free
Travels over time show my head other things.
Forgetting dust settling shackles;
to be broken free, I'd give my days
And something out of all this mess
clears my congested chest
of any remedial purpose or perception
And maybe ears go deaf from silence,
maybe eyes go blind from staring at the sky too long
(Not as long as it takes to show)
But as long as...