Oh, geat knigs of unseen sights and fantasies things,
if you''d stepped just one step one,
Mostly my favorite who made the black birds call,
on 11 frequencies soar,
if you''d tried a different drink: a coffee or a tea,
you''d have stepped out from the blade; more flights you''d see.
Oh dear friends, at my hands reach,
if you''d played just one more tune,
you set down your strings, drumsticks, and play things,
to lift that mug too soon,
no time to play, hike, toss ball, or even to make sound,
i see and pray, against your doom''s day, that you yourself found.
And now, oh myself, on a flat chair,
my heroes and friends stolen under my eyes,
i can barely lift my pen or pluck my guitar,
could i just do what they did and leave these graying ties?
Sip and Sip that grinning cup all the way down to my rest?
No! a scale climb and slide, plus a poem on the side,
for those after i''ll withstand the test!