There’s a song that keeps ringing in my ears these days.
As it plays innocently, my fond memories
Are of laughter. The years of my youth were carefree.
Unaware of how the tune has affected me
After decades, I now have a mental disease
That I welcome. It’s one that is worthy of praise.
The eeriest of earworms eats out at the mind.
Unobstructed by commonsense, it has control,
For the moment, of my worthiness to exist
In true freedom. I have the power to resist
The temptation to shuffle and play the dark soul.
The song has power over the one who is blind.
Ice cream is milk and honey. This land that I know
Is uncivil. The white hoods have now been removed.
Thankfulness for the story that is created
Is a challenge if its origin is hated
By the ones who only want conditions improved
For the whole. It would seem there’s a long way to go.
Grateful I am for who I am. Where I belong
Is where I am. The contrafacta may evolve
To the loudest dog whistle made for the turkey
In the straw of the barnyard of humanity.
Sins of ego I am most obliged to absolve.
Thankfulness is believing that nothing is wrong.