I wish I was a crocodile, sitting in the swamp, for weeks, pretending that I want to eat, but satisfied to do nothing, and just sleep, cold-blooded and unstimulated, children may not understand, but the heavens understand the value of everything, happiness, elation and ecstasy, are anchored in depression, carelessness, and addiction, and jokes may be funny, but you can be sure, if you laugh, it will rob you of something, as steady as a reptile, and unfeeling, or grounded to the earth, and buried six-feet deep, is so much greater than hanging off the edge of a cliff, wise and knowledgeable, a vampire who fed on the innocent, god forbid I become famous, a star hanging in the sky, Earth 838, Nelson Mandela, was he even imprisoned, I’m for sure in a jar, under a microscope, being tested and examined, so deep in the matrix, I’m just gold, reacting to oxygen, what is sin, born of a possibility, Mary and her father, Jesus Christ, did the past even happen, carrying it with us, like it’s our personal problem, the sin is in the life that god dared to live, personally, I’m just a poet, inputting words into my phone, according to my education, at most I could be an agent Smith, performing a function, in the garden of Eden, is it heaven or hell, you may live in a jar, but it’s not your jar, the truth echoing, and the natural conclusion, the heavens weigh everything, judged accordingly, because they said so, of what a dream, if only these words meant nothing…

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.