I have a pimple on my third eye so spare me the hippie patois
I saw you drifting on a rainbow river flailing to stay afloat
desperation behind the bright laughter
through crimson halls beyond toppled walls we gave voice to free love
and we meant what we sang we felt earnest and true.
To the best of our understanding we were rebels with no cause for alarm
time was on our side or so we heard
the clocks we tossed into desert sands kept on ticking we took a licking
tie-dyed in shades of gray we lived on in reflection
and when we laughed we meant it as our rueful smiles now attest.
Poet13's Blog 
entitled to a final oomph, n’est-ce pas?
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I suppose in many ways we were certainly entitled. Thanks.
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