haphazard

bright yellow yarn and pretentious boulders
that once came cascading down my shoulders
and i still went..”No, i don't like that shade”
back then, i called a spade a spade

i liked the pretty engravings on those coffins
wishing wells didn't surface that often
and all that was there, all that was clear
was so pointless, so destined to disappear

the flute sang, and it sang my song
the universe sang in unison, but they didn't sing along
and pathetic pink ponies didn't quite see the light
they dreamt of hounddogs chasing them at night

and all that this means, all that i see
are those emotions marinated in jelly
and i carry them along, without a bowl to bind
i'll trap what i like from what i find