Pleasant Lord Poem by Sylvester Eaves

Pleasant lord my
Intentions are placed
On the smell of lucid
Leaf as I throw it away in the
Dark cozy wind
Scarcity of hunger
Broadens my eyes
To search for moments
To conquer the moment
I starve
Clutched within the grips of
My hand I spare to manage
A dollar from my jar
Ideas of hurt in my
Round stomach
Say things spewed
From my mouth
pleasant lord my intentions
Are placed on the smell of lucid leaf