a blueish green haze lays on me
each morning when I rise
casting spells and making
prognostications about the
future in front of me...
a blueish grey sky forecasted
around me, lets those who
would be in fear, gentle down,
for tomorrow will be sunny...
an orange red sun sinks down
behind the mountains, casting
doubts on the evening which
kindled so much of our fears,
a desperate eulogy is spoken
for the dead have reawakened,
roaming the streets of our youth
as if we were still around...
a brown haze has come to replace
the one I wear before the day
descends into chaos and I am
summoned by the courts to pay
all my outstanding warrants.
May 9, 2025
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