Sink or Swim

December 23, 2015

Oh what a night,

A night that started out oh so right.

I look up and there’s a dove in my tree, way, up there, “You see?”

We gave each other a gleaming little stare.

I swear, If anyone tries to kill you dove I won't let them dare.

YOU are my dove, in my tree and they will most certainly have to go through me.

I’m not so wild eyed as you may think.

I'm not even on the brink.

One deep breath of my sweet incense filled air, and into this chair I will just sink.

Funny, swim is my other choice of delight on this beautiful smoked filled night.

Oh this precious smoke filled night,

ARGH this crazy air filled night, it was NOT my smoke that caused such a fright,

“YES”,  that’s right my dove took flight.

That crazy old man wanted a fight.

Doors slamming, cabinets ramming, then tires clamoring.

Pebbles being thrown.

Men who shouldn’t be called grown (ARGH as I scream in my head)

They always cause such a belly moan.

Sink, swim or just be ALONE,

Smoke and inhale this beautiful air while I just sit in my green chair.

Or the one in there, maybe even that cold bench over there.

I just want to rip out my hair.

I think I will just go be elsewhere.

He caught me in that snare.

Oh what an intensifier.

Like the town crier.

Dial it down.

I’m considering, whether to sink or swim not drown.

This poem is about: 
My family

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