Disposed

Disposed

Written by Jonathan Henderson

Saturday March 1, 2014 @ 5:09 PM

The trash bin would be so clean for me

As the conscious weaver of my winter

Of discontent kills the sun's baking my

Skin that I wish to keep, but the weaver

Declares I'm the enemy to his state as if

I provide no good company but rotten

And rancid, and my variety spoils very

Quickly, and therefore must be disposed.

Crying a stream, always to chase one and

Another dream to exit my visions of each

Day consumed with moonlight, and how

The night is never young, but vibrant of

Geriatric thoroughfares to genres of weak

Discord, and my! How I've been detained

Beyond the steppes of Tibetan visions of a

World consumed of serene, serendipitous

Reaches for a star's delightful love for life's

Zeitgeist, but of my feisty resolve to fight

Each one and all defiant of my rights for a

Life of freedom and to live as I am always

To remain mired in an entangled of all the

Remaining seven billion sans the last one.