Outside Shangri-La Poem by Chris Haifley

Bring me none of your carbonated 'life, '
Nor your toxic music or drugs.
Bring me none of your headache 'humor, '
Nor any of your sheepskin Ugs.

Stretched ears are better to hear you with my dear,
With me, 'stoned' is no longer a verb.
Come with a guitar and an open mind,
And I'll play you the best music you've ever heared.

Come with me-pen in hand,
And don't forget to dress for the cold,
We will exist in this only-seen land,
And chase emotions that were forever untold.

As you lay on the ground, you steal the stars' show.
But how could you still not believe in tbe truth?
'I think it's time that I let it go,
And make life all for you.'

So;
Bring me your pain,
All of your smoke and flaws,
Bring me all of your life,
And I'll make it ours.