Monday, January 26, 2009

blood is the thinning of soul

I can barely lift the drink up to my lips.
I can barely hope to eat...I can barely feel my legs
most of the time I'm too drunk or high to
look up and see the glory of God
but JOY will never be robbed of
the spirit
I can barley pray but some how I know God listens
I can barely argue with the girl I know
will never be married to me...
I have little to no cash and even a shorter will and drive to become

I can still mix the drinks and I still sip on the smoke
and I still walk with the thorn in my side
but what I could never do is come out of my shell
and let the world know the hell which is in thought
nor could I ever tell my family what useless matter my body has become
but let not the bitter of the world tear the JOY of heaven from your lips
the drunkard's love of the great wine
leave your lips and let the cup
get you drunk the pipe inhale yr lungs and
let the wealth of the world hang itself
and let us once again get drunk on the belove's cup
devine was rumi's heart ours
polluted with smog and grime that I can barely get the cup to my lips

but I stay drunk....