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Panic! AT Woodstock

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I tripped, slipped, and fell a thousand feet
Head first into some subjunctive land.
My only comfort when all
Else seemed lost in some lagoon lit only to fireflies, who seemed
To laugh at me as
I was spinning around and around.
I did not seem to feel bothered by the reckless
Taunts, I only seemed to laugh too, which made
Their laughter almost childlike.
This world of tripping, almost slipped up
And threw me out , for my visa had long expired.
Sympathetic as they were, hippies adopted me and
Now I am only known as the quintessential son
Of the gods. Clothed in Abercrombie jeans with wrinkled
Band tees, I seem to float along to the sounds of Jimi and Janis.
Enticed now by eerie chords and riffs and with each intense high,
I seem to fall while flying. I make little effort to worry about
Simple things. My mind and body are fraternal twins,
Separated at birth, but joined again by some force that
Would later only pull us apart again.
But who cares when the boy
Cried “ Wolf!”
No one!
And no one is Society.
Time to hope for the beautiful unknown, which only means are
To baffle us out of our minds with the inevitable pending of freedom.





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