Thomas Becker

Once again its down the rabbit hole we must go
How should we decide who to have on a show.
Hopefully to be one that’s on the right path
but you know it could just be a sociopath.
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Where can food can be found
When the evil comes round
Can you till the ground
What will you do when the child cry's for more?
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An hour after I eat the sun shine,
in my mind I know I was fine.
My mouth had seen the wind wisked by,
was when my eyes tasted the sky.
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What has become of the America that I've known.
Now the free and the brave hide in their home.
In the 60's the people came together they were heard.
Now its the inter net to look at the digital word.
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Why does man all ways fear death?
Could it be its really for the best?
At one time we lived to 900 years.
How much of it was full of fears?
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Is mankind really just an adaptation,
or is he just an insane infestation.
Even from the beginning of whats called time,
mutation has pulled mankind from the slime.
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It seamed to all start in the dark,
when space was full only of quark.
You can take this as only my notion,
but I believe its all about motion.
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In the resent past once a wise man,
said he had the answer to save the land.
Around him where all the great minds
and ever one asked “Is this the end times? ”
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This life is about getting the food money.
When you only need to get the honey.
What is shown to us is not what is real.
You don't have to go a long with the deal.
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Think of what the thing called Time could be.
Its the flow of events that you can see.
We have an allotment of time to use at will,
But know your soul is what will pay the bill.
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I lay awake in my bed late at night
with thought of you in minds sight,
felling that our love is just and right.
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I long for the days when love was new,
and the doubts where far apart and few.

Slowly the tears roll down my face.
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I look outside my window at night,
my mind is swayed by the star light.
They seamed so bright but far away,
a canvas of God that is on display.
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Wild flowers, yellow, pink, blue and white.
All so precious with in my mines sight.

Red Fescus, St. Augustine and Kentucky Bluegrass
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I'm here to tell a you a tail,
one with a morel or its a fail.
Long and hard I think what to say
but not really knowing in which way.
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Here I'm sitting on the edge of tomorrow
and all I can feel is the World’s sorrow.
Slowly the tears roll down my face.
Wondering what happen to man’s grace.
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