In the memory of space

/

A crack in the wall is all that I need to keep a secret place.
Glowing balls of light that float, a moat, a castle in a suitcase,
And a boat… water-falling shit out the throat about money.
Buy me a house, three trucks and two cars.
I want a yard, a million bucks and the stars.
Bring them to me. I’ll wait here.
While the speaker volume scent ‘almost’ covers the screaming next door,
I attempt to exempt static from my thoughts.
I get lost in the attic and… almost,
Swallowed by a ghost. Yet I escape with a cape like a super hero,
After having coffee with you… and eating pancakes and eggs.
Sounds like old school blues cutting in and,
-Charlie can you hear me? It’s Frank Sinatra! Here to bust you out of jail! With a back up! Not to fail!
-All hail Bob!
I’ll conquer all obstacles at any cost!
Tossed all the way back to the scattered memories of ‘childhood’ in a flash and I feel my mind expanding.
Understanding that the slightest change to any one moment would have me off the highdive of an empty pool.
A habitual like ritual I picked up in school and stash,
In a crack in the wall of a castle underneath the earth in the thick vast forests of a forbidden land.
I keep in hand a ball of light to guide my soul through space.  
Happy to have a hidden place to keep it safe... I return home alive,
And they welcome me with birthday cake.       25  

--Last edited by Waffle Bob on 2008-05-29 10:01:28 --