Oh how I wish
Oh how I wish I would wake in the morning to see,
To see what glorious things happen to be waiting for me.
What ripe adventure could begin anew,
Spring forth with joy in all I say and do.
I'd show the world who's boss by the end of the day,
Just to go to sleep and start all over again.
But those days they seem no more than a dream.
Now life passes me by,
Or so it may seem.
If the world were my oyster I'd leave it unshucked,
And thank god it's not; if it were we'd be f***ed.
But speaking in riddles never solved a thing.
So here I am.
Just a bored lonely kid.
With his hopes.
And his dreams.
Parker Griffith's Other Poems
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(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
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(23 June 1889 – 5 March 1966)
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