I contemplate what to write,
With your sweet messages in my ear.
How to explain to thee,
More than a simple bastards ramble.
I always am a simple soul so complex,
And play the role which is so easy to please.
That was not edited,
I hate it when I rhyme.
The rhythm of my words,
Are of another course,
So misleading and sublime.
To be your purpose to keep reading,
I will give these simple lines a toil.
To myself I give no meaning,
Just the song I keep hearing.
From here to the ear the rhyme is for you,
you and your simple heart I hope will read these lines and for my writing,
As I explained to you I keep no pace
Or editor kept on some salary.
I myself am the created song,
And to my words they must be solipsistic and outward a message is underlying.
I want to have some meaning,
And to you I today can give no definition.
Alcohol and life misunderstandings,
Are the inspirations and muses I keep at a high rate of my anticipation.
I don’t need anything and to no one I will ever give a true and utter
I am the poet and philosopher that my life and wanderings have demanded.
I just hope I can keep your attention
Without deviating from my ultimate poetic aspiration.