Laughter fills the great hall of my pulmonary.
Smoke rolls in like the great adversary.
Polluting and drugging the alveoli,
While the milk and coffee soothes the burn,
The thought of you is all I yearn.
Isn’t it enough that the young never die?
Or is it the crazy that live forever?
Either way young and crazy is a concoction that I’d like to try.
Wouldn’t it be marvelous to sign up for that kind of life.
Her words echoed through the prison bars of my mind.
It wouldn’t be life if you weren’t by my side…echoing, shaking, echoing through out time.
The children gather, as steam rises into the cold winter sky.
The trees grow, the birds sing, and the lilacs paint a surreal scene.
How nice it would be to stay young, How nice it would be to grow old.
The two differ, but are seen throughout time as a lie.
The universe is a blessing, and the beauty is unrelenting.
Life is our gift, and love is the prize.