Days

Derty fingers press hard agenst the derty wight pages turning nothing to days days in the life of this man and that's my first problum I'm a man some days all I think about is sex and others it's the fact weman confuse me to know ends just days serching for that one word phrase that will turn You and me in to u and s one fanomanale combanashen of anething ever sead biy any desent man in the intier world into one pakege redy to blow these days I'm not look for motents to clime I'm look for a rhyem anuf to make som hot air and filla baloon so mabe i can fly and one day say a three word vers that will brake the cerse and turn you and me in to us with crispy crust and a charry resting on tope of a monten of dust contaning the ashes of the past still asender in lust turn wood to wildfiers Im a man imperfect and askue but that does not change my feeling for you. they transend the stars and play b ball on mars where the water comes in cups overflowing with ink derty fingers press hard agenst the wight pages turning nothing to days days i go with out you day i go with out speking days of artestic bliss i turn to you and air exapes my lungs and these days when the moutens you clime are but grains of sand you take my hand and turn singals plerals and i'm looking forword to the days when I can take my words from the secret place and show you and say a two word incantation turning you and me In to use and we
by jhone doe