This poem addresses how our habits often hold us back from bringing new potential into our lives. Sometimes the coziness with which we are encompassed when completing the actions we consider to be ‘what we do’ blinds us from the blossoms behind our backs. Turn around and wake up my friends…!
The smoking brew sessions
They connect me to and remind me of my past,
While causing tomorrow to sleep in…
I do hear the echoes here,
I do love the sentiment near,
But will I stay in this hallway,
Listening to what I’ve already heard…?
Tomorrow speaks a foreign word,
But the pressure of the presence might
Sing-a-long absurd.
To turn around and catch sight of the blossoms
To re-access infinity.
Drawing the picture of more than what you can…
Feeling potential rise from the similar sand.
Mundane Fun Insane – Novel Trippy Game
To sing in chord with the moon and rain.
Life is never ever the same…