The Sky Is Beautiful

 

blue_sky

 

This is a poem I wrote 14 years ago in November of 2002. As I go back and read some of my older poems, I contemplate whether or not I should share them. And if I do share them, should I edit them? Naw, I’ll just give it to you how it is. Here goes:

 

THE SKY IS BEAUTIFUL

The sky is beautiful, pure is the air,
the world is ugly and so damn unfair.

So I stare…
up into the peaceful blue,
f#@k this place and f#@k you too!

But I don’t feel like this when I’m up in a bliss,
where rainbows hug and clouds kiss.

Visions of life make up the o-zone,
as I look up from down here, I see it’s all gone.

Standing on the earth,
wondering what its all worth.

Looking in the sky,
is it where we go when we die?

Then why….am I already there,
locked in a vision with a cold dead stare.

Don’t trip on me because I’m tripping on this,
most points will hit, others will miss.

But that’s cool,
I’ll be the fool.

Or perhaps I’m a little too deep,
and the road to my mind is a little too steep,
I live my best hours in my sleep.

In my sleep I see in the sky,
instead of blue it’s black like when we die.

So what’s my point, what am I saying,
that life is better when our body’s decaying?

I don’t know, it kinda seems that way,
live my life and see what you say.

When living in the skies is your best damn times,
or the hours you spend when you close your eyes.

Or you could come on down and do it like this:
always be pissed,
constantly hurting over things you miss,
Its not living, you simply exist…

in a shadow of crime,
always doing time,

every second of the day,
but that’s not the case I’m happy to say…

Simply because I do it my way,
elevating up to where the birds play,
and loving the darkness at the end of my day.

The sky is beautiful, pure is the air,
the world is ugly and so damn unfair.

 

abc
Steven Jennings

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