Mystical Garden

I’ll take a serving of the medicine that you deliver

from the corner of your intrusive and entitled little mouth.

I will swallow with a spoonful of sugar in the raw

just to see what you’re about.

I’ll feel it sink and let it brew so I can send it back to you

as I piss it right into your mouth.

How does it taste?

How does it feel?

Is it everything that’s real?

Do you still like to give it out?

If I had another dollar for every dosage of your doubt

would you make me rich and pour it out?

You keep on getting what you give-

I wonder; do you feel the dryness of your drought?

You can have a piece of truth and you can live a taste of life

when you learn to let it out-

’cause that’s what I’m about.

And if you do it with good manners;

no agenda with your planners-

then your seed might come to sprout

and you won’t even have to shout.



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