Sometimes
Between a daisy and a smile
I see pathways strewn recklessly
Mile by mile...
Life is a mystic,
Meandering,
River of experience
And we are all swimmers
Of great impetuousness:
Comics and the poets,
Workers and those intellects,
Teachers and the liars,
Students and the clowns;
We are all the same,
We are all the same;
Bidders for attention,
Getting very little,
Lost in a maze
Of strewn pathways.

01/09/1976

Posted on 08/07/2009
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