A Happy Mope, Oops I Mean A Happy Poem Poem by James Darwin Smith II

Beating that path
To oblivion
Off the grid
And into submission
Defying directions
With no care given



They say right
So call me left
They think I am left
Then I become right
Left never being right
Of a vocabulary rite
While left being inconspicuous
By my own presence
Paranoid in balanced thinking



My enemy is, cliché
Never trying to be anything
Partnering up with disarray
The purity of decay
Pandering to self
To stay solid in fortitude
Illusive work of non-fiction
Illusions speaking truths
So much chaos in being peaceful



The path was already chosen
In the future, this was a long time ago
Oblivion a sweet paradise
Oblivious in attentive ways
In the sudden release
Of never letting go



A pun is a literal sense
In these words created


Common sense sedated
Into insomniac temptations



In my world
Monkeys do indeed fly



Do you?

Me too!