deepundergroundpoetry.com
my fathers universal house
Sitting here,
In my solitude,
That I love oh so dear,
writing drink in hand
By my window at night, this time of year
The wind blows cool,
Matters of transgression weight upon my mind
Forcing through scar tissue
of the prefrontal cortex of my mind
that has been ravaged through the bitch of time and beers
I know where I did wrong,
I know where I error
In you, I acknowledge where I sin,
I should not be dependent on you for my happiness
It is not fair to you
For in it, has it made relationship sour
Where once it bloomed,
No,
You should never have been caged and made responsible for me
It is not fare to you,
It is not fare to I
To look into your eyes
And make you see
To look into my eyes
And make me see
It is too much
But rather
For, in the Fathers universal home
in my father’s house
there is enough for all
I am dependent upon God for my joy and happiness
And you, and your joy of love
Is added to me
In our house of universal harmony
Of both joy and living
In my solitude,
That I love oh so dear,
writing drink in hand
By my window at night, this time of year
The wind blows cool,
Matters of transgression weight upon my mind
Forcing through scar tissue
of the prefrontal cortex of my mind
that has been ravaged through the bitch of time and beers
I know where I did wrong,
I know where I error
In you, I acknowledge where I sin,
I should not be dependent on you for my happiness
It is not fair to you
For in it, has it made relationship sour
Where once it bloomed,
No,
You should never have been caged and made responsible for me
It is not fare to you,
It is not fare to I
To look into your eyes
And make you see
To look into my eyes
And make me see
It is too much
But rather
For, in the Fathers universal home
in my father’s house
there is enough for all
I am dependent upon God for my joy and happiness
And you, and your joy of love
Is added to me
In our house of universal harmony
Of both joy and living
Published 18th Dec 2015
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