I step through shadow, weave amongst the trees
watch for the rock behind it are a thousand bees
and I've never seen a fat boy run so fast
helpless, sprinting, screaming, as though maimed in
battle or by lovers word
eventually the bees caught up with him
and I see things i never think could happen
drunk, stoned, hung over, alone
i sit back and observe the monotone
daily passing, just getting by to get by
what will happen tomorrow? who wants to know
be like roots, we'll just grow
now go, past the swing set and up on the porch
climb the only tree and my window approach.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.