I think of Robert Frost's poem "The road less Traveled" from time to time. I dont have it memorized, cause I just dont. But, I know what it says and the interpetaion that different people have to say about it. I just dont have one. Some times you just choose a fuckin road and dont even think about, that's the way I look at it. "Hey jake why did you choose this road?" "Just felt like it, or dont know bro, I wasnt relly thinking about it at the time!" And of course some asshole can come along and can explain and even interpet what the hell I was thinking. Like there are fucking "cleo,(jamacian accent) call me now fer yer free readin"
interpet this one!
I go to bed thinking of the day that just passed,
My actions, reactions, that have caused those to blush
from the words and thoughts that escape my ignorant mind
and lead them to guilt they thought one could never find.
and when I awake, those thoughts haunt me till another days end,
Yet in my dreams is where I find that peace, that fantasy silence, justifactions of my actions that I know are lucid,
whether waking in sweats or exsaperated breath
I know today might be another day filled with regret.
I may repeat my actions one more time
and say that the wishkey was just to high grain
Tell you I'm sorry and swear my words were not intended for a
A bowl of menudo, 2 cups of coffee,
the warmth of a blanket made by your mother
will make you believe that guy, that man, could never be me.
Im off to dream land to be set free.