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Road Trip Invitation

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O Mournful treacherous,
Innocent eyes of a muse,
Draped in your lovely sweater,
Doing whatever the hell you do,
To make the ends of my lips,
Form into a smile.

Sweet child,
Raised from the roots of a sore,
Flower bed,
Tell me I beg of you,
Do you wish to be free,
From the pitfalls of academia
And school books and tuition fees,
Pencils and erasers,

and room and board,

nonsensical hogwash.

Well then,
Join me in our escape,
Of this run-down town,
And let us enter into a new world,
Of love and adventure and
Trips in our 1938 Volkswagon bus,
Which we painted ourselves,
Green and yellow and baby blue,
Our best attempts at tie-dye making
Love in the back seat
Only in our marijuana daydreams,
In the bus we might travel
To new heights and old sorrows,
We will explore the world,
And the depths of our minds.
Only in ink we will mark
What is to come,
Of our past lives worth living
In days ahead,
Presently in the here and the now,
Wallowing in the eddies,
Lolling in what does not confine,
Our paths ever crossing to
The ends of eternity.

O Mournful, treacherous
Innocent eyes,
Love me into Farther trips,
Long strange country roads,
Alleyways and heartbreaks,
Lover O lover follow me,
On a deep dark road,
To fulfill our fantasy,

To revel in what we don’t know,
To revel in a spiritual awakening.






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