WP verse two by Stan Ipcus
"misty morning and my mom's a mess
to make matters worse dog my pops is stressed
life is a test,
make the grade of catch an F
now death is all that's left to ponder
i wander off hoping to catch my breath,
and hold it
mold my memories from untold scripts
and roll up in a tornado twist,
now i'm certain
there's a pertinent reason i'm on this earth
seasons change in white plains
but we remain alert,
when new school years appear
fools fear fall failure
and crawl away in tears
i play popeye the sailor and stay with spinach,
we walk the halls with a grimace
yeah they gossip in groups
i try to mind my business and tell the truth,
for instance
i listen and see it all with basketball court vision
ignoring ignorance in fields of fiction,
we lean back in the calmest position
and embrace the honesty found within our tension.
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