At five years old Lucky grew wise
If rumours were steadfast and true
But it’s not just the east, where whispers deceive
Your senses and alter your views

At birth he was given, a name that was bound
To catch him off-guard and reveal
To believe every word, is just as absurd
As a cat growing wings like a bird

Each morning at eight, lucky would wait
For the pigeon he’d come to resent
At the top of the tree, he’d perch to escape
So, he planned a cunning accent

With their elated spines now tingling through the awakened minds subtlest feelings,
And the core of their inner souls aligned to the essences they found so deep inside,
Through such resplendent realisations of the complexities of their spiritual meanings,
They rediscover the cosmic creative essences of when inner galaxies did first collide.

I may be jaded,

But this I realized,

Is the worldview I alone have created,

Quiet,Cold,

But still in the process of being calibrated,

All while carrying a mountain up a hill,

All because of an ADHD pill.

I may wear a mask sometimes absent of tears,

It's gone on for too many years,

Weighted down,

And hung up from a sequoia,

Drowning in a kind of controlled paranoia.

I may be fed up and bored,

Trying to align my thoughts with the hoard,

Fighting social anxiety,

After months aboard a floating tomb
With the stench of death and gloom
Shackled in chains, this unfortunate slave
At the land of the free, and home of the brave

Same cotton wheel, years down the line
All work not play, with no way to resign
Dare to ask for water, from the boss man at auction
Make no mistakes - approach with caution

Out of luck - not today, so I’ll go without
I think of the cattle, at home in a drought
And the floating tomb, in sea that was crushing
One extreme to the other, much water or nothing