The Sun has crossed the sky, my work is done,
I am spent, and have earned a little,
To go build my nest, to protect my kittens,
Water the plants, fire up the kitchen.
Civility, the call of duty,
Ah! the layers that I have put on,
Over time, to exist, to look normal,
Unlike the dark, fresh like the morn.
I have trapped and not let em out,
The spirit, the desires, once fresh, now stale,
That I once played with freely,
Bereft of guilt, and not a bit afraid.
The Sun has set, the moon beckons,
The evening and the dark alleys cover,
The passage is clear, I can hear my goal,
It invites me sans the layers, only my soul.
I shed my layers, but color my soul,
Shampoo my hair, put on the finest clothes,
The skin hides, what my eyes reveal,
The restlessness, the youth that once was me.
The music is loud, the crowd stripped,
Of all the years of bogus, worldly balm,
That has not worked for me or my mates,
A chimera, a mirage with all its charm.
So let me be young again,
Let me dance, till the morning’s dawn,
Let me wave my hands and kiss them lips,
Drink from the chalice that may come along.
When the Sun comes up, I will seize to exist,
The layers will be up, civility will hide the mess,
Till then, let the music flow, the floor tremble,
Let me, my mates, be young & restless.
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