Puzzle Peace Is?
In a room of my own
I lead pain to an escape route
I sit firmly on my thighs
knees burn tight from Tunisian threads
Galactic energetic flows as comforts arise
the moon moves from each window
and I still can’t decide
Is it music or poetry or civil rights that I love?
how I envy those who courageously make their minds up
The years come through but I never get enough
anything I touch turns from actions to ashen dust
Enough, enough, enough, enough, I say!
Already I’ve played by night to sun day
and still I don’t know enough, I know less!
More rage and confusion that my conscious can digest
now give me a break, but not too long
i’ll grow weary of comfort and search first signs of frost