hope left the tree, all doors were shut.
I saw a friend who had a rough day,
his gait all gloomy, hair all grey,
eyes so sad, his smile went amiss,
like a pin in a stack of hay.
Something was common among these all,
they all stuck with their assigned role.
The path to success has a big loophole,
the body knows where to go, but not the soul.
The soul is like a fish, stuck in a fishbowl,
Feeling what it feels, not doing what it’s told.
It’s a path of thorns, not paved with gold,
When you set aside the task of being as a whole,
you find that your being has a big deep hole,
just like a car’s a car, no matter diesel or petrol,
the good times won’t come to you, unless
you let the good times roll!