Brooks Was Here

Dreams are foreign
With sovereign doctrine
The song of men with sixpence
And a sense of none
Numb and locked in lust with young
I’m hung in one
Spot
Brooks was here….

What year was it
When the buzzards filled the sky like blizzards
Snowflakes locked in circumstance with a chance
Of advance Im circumspect
Lost in a pool of lack of respect
Success a mess of madness and too pitiful
To call sadness
What are you?
What am I?
But for a fly in the Annointment
Lost in mint julip frosted tulips accosted
By the moss fit of illigit thought
Wrought wrong in song so strong
And elongated penetrated masturbated
Uneducated impurity
Fury me with maximum none
Hung from where the institutionalized
Realized cries fell on deaf ears for years
And the breath of the many disappears
Like the ghost of fear
Brooks was here……