Honey

Simple needs

Nobody know what is going to happen to any of us

Except the fore lorn rags of time

At the end of each night where I lie

My head

Plump warm comforting acceptance

Safe in my bed

Dead in my head

High up in the chalice red

 The go boy dead in the road

On thou road I take theses hands

To write

To love

To moan

To groan

To fight all alone

I will live in gleeful bliss of the impending inevitability

Yet the road does not take me I travel her always

In the last pages of my adventures

I will go forth on this land

Bent crooked and stupidly

I will hug those who need me because I am pooh bear

With simple needs for honey