Inconceivable Saint

Exhausted and worn out and spent,
An angel of the highest Lord was sent,
One more miracle,
Left to perform,
So his halo,
Could continue to glow.

He slowly walked along,
Dragging ass,
While his mind sung a song,
Paying no attention really,
By the way,
His name was Beautiful,
And so he was……….really.

Inside and out,
A deliverer sent from above,
To bring faith and hope and love,
Was what he was truly about.

God spelled backwards,
He was man’s best friend,
That’s why he was just perfect,
For his master’s latest project.

The Messiah’s expectations,
Were seven wondrous happenings per day,
Fixing frustrations,
And making generous donations,
When they were done,
He would make meticulous notations.

It happened that today,
This angel was looking to perform his last sensation,
In order to stay worthy,
Of his current station,
Under the Holy Master.

So with that his mind was occupied,
But even so,
Soon he smelled some greasy goodness,
And saw a sign,
Saying that to eat something fried,
One only had to walk on inside.

This may not seem,
Like a likely way,
To find something,
That needs a miracle,
But he did,
He found the someone,
He was intended to,
And they looked downright pitiful.

When he eyed the bar,
We can all relate,
To what that unlikely messenger saw,
Hunched over a plate.

Tattered and torn,
And the tears in the eyes,
Made the person appear forlorn,
So the dog ran up,
And got between the person,
And their cup.

Sitting on the chair,
Beside the one going through,
A living nightmare,
He woofed and wagged,
Until their shoulders,
No longer sagged.

Soon they started to talk,
Pouring out their woes,
And though this was an angel,
Who could not speak,
It healed their heart,
So they could forge a new start.

Before leaving,
He was offered for reward,
A mouthwatering meal,
And when he finally cleared out,
From God he got,
The day’s final seal.

Mission accomplished!
Thought he with satisfaction,
Now he’d corrected a deep sorrow,
And would be permitted,
To work miracles on Earth again tomorrow.

Made Possible By Snowmen

A Christmas wreath,
Flying through the air like a frisbee,
Grabbed by an unseen hand,
Settled on top of,
A pudgy snowman.

The snowman shook her head,
She was confused,
Feeling something around her head,
She reached up to unseat it,
But it had become fused.

Her head began to tingle,
Where the wreath sat,
And then the bells attached,
The wind made them start to jingle.

Every year,
The very same wreath,
Floats down from the air,
And picks out a snowman,
To help with Mrs. Santa’s Plan.

Someone at the North Pole needs a snowman,
One that isn’t made,
Of their magic snow,
So Mrs. Clause sends out this wreath,
To gather one that she can’t reach.

During Mr. Clause’s,
Christmas Eve run,
Mrs. Santa has things,
She needs to get done,
For something in particular,
She’ll need the help of this one.

You see snow from the outside,
Is the only thing,
That can make things go unseen,
And she wants to hide.

No!
It’s not like that!
She’s not doing anything shady,
But those elves are nosy,
And she wants time to herself,
For a cozy evening,
Like a regular old lady.

So up and away,
Flew the snowman,
And when she landed,
In that Far North Land,
She was greeted by the twin,
Of Santa’s famous deer Vixen.

“My Lord”!
She exclaimed,
Upon looking around,
“I’ve never seen,
So many like myself before”!

“Ah, but they’re not like you”,
Said the twin of Vixen,
“Ours are made with stuff magical,
And cannot do the job,
We’ve collected you to do”.

And so in the short time it took,
To deliver her,
To the Clause’s door,
He provided swiftly,
A brief North Pole history.

Mrs. Clause heard them coming,
And threw open the door,
Calling out a merry greeting,
Around the mouthful of Christmas cookie,
She was eating.

Now Vixen’s twin plodded off,
And the non-magical snowman,
Was left with just Mrs. Clause,
Who explained she needed a night to relax,
A total break,
From the whole Christmas act.

“The elves would take this as a sign,
Of great disrespect,
And my husband would worry,
I wasn’t taking our job seriously,
So year after year,
I bring one of you here,
For the snow you’re made of,
Gives off a poison shine,
And if elves look upon it,
Their eyes go temporarily blind”.

So the non-magical snowman,
Was asked by Mrs. Clause to guard,
Posted right at the property’s edge,
So the elves’ views of the place,
For the next twenty-four hours,
Would be barred.

All throughout the coming day,
That woman had a ball,
She had,
After all,
Waited a whole year,
For this day to fall.

Half was spent lazing about,
Watching un-Christmassy things on her telly,
Then she cooked and ate unhealthy cuisine,
Like sausages with sour kraut,
Before taking time out,
To read a book,
Instead of being,
The elves’ cook.

Peeking out her front window,
She saw the non-magical snowman,
Was still there keeping watch,
But the time was up,
On this trick,
She must get ready,
For the arrival of St. Nick.

It would be another year,
Before she would again be clear,
Of dear Mr. Clause,
And before he showed his face,
The evidence of what happens in his wake,
She must be sure to erase.

For of course Santa Himself,
Would be able to see through,
The non-magical snowman,
As he’s much more powerful than an elf.

Let me tell you gladly,
It does not end badly,
For those flown in to assist,
Mrs. Santa makes damn sure,
They are compensated for helping her,
She turns them magical,
Rather than returning them,
To where the first sign of warmth,
Would have them die a death most tragical.

Can Trouble-Free, Be For Real?

Just where in the mother-fuck,
Is easy street?
It’s a confusion I guess,
Because something for one it might bless,
But put another in quite the fucking mess.

If I’m fortunate enough to make it,
To easy street,
Will I be given gracious greetings,
And presented with treats?

Maybe it’s not here at all,
There’s a possibility,
It can’t be uncovered,
Before we cross over.

Wherever it may be,
I wonder what’s to see,
And what’s waiting for me,
When I reach easy street.

What does it even mean,
To find easy street?
Is it time to kick back relaxed,
And stop being overtaxed?

Do you have a clue,
What there is to do,
Upon reaching easy street?
I assume there’s constant fun,
Because everything’s already done?

Are worries washed away,
When you set foot on easy street?
Is forgetting misfortunes,
A side effect of finding that place?

Maybe easy street finds us,
When we’ve all but given up?
Must you be invited to go there?
But by who……….
And could that be why it’s so rare?

Is easy street,
Even a factual place?
Or is it just fictitious?
Of this I’m suspicious……….

Hey Little Kitty-Kats

In this classic case,
Of being in the wrong place,
At the wrong time,
They picked up their pace,
When the Strange One,
Opened up his jowls,
And let out a heinous howl.

Being so much smaller though,
The cats were too slow,
And the stray wolf,
In need of a pack,
Turned them,
And now there’s no turning back.

Basic house cats,
They were out on a stroll,
For some Halloween laughs,
And sad to say,
That was the last time,
They’d have a normal-cat day.

It was a fun time,
People watching,
And clawing jack-o’-lanterns,
Until they were unrecognizable,
Until a dog walked by,
Who was quite sizable.

Weird vibes emanated from him,
But they paid no mind,
Until it was too late,
Now running was out of the question,
They were out of time.

*************************

That was last year,
And now it’s been a whole ‘nother year,
Halloween,
Has come ’round again,
It’s been accepted all around,
Although it still feels foreign.

Now they’re wolves,
The Strange One,
Couldn’t find a pack,
His magical abilities,
Made others of his kind stay away,
As though he were overrun with fleas.

Due to lack of fans,
The Strange One took matters,
Into his own hands,
He made his own pack,
Out of house cats.

There’s no way out,
For him now,
Though he’s happy to have a pack,
There’s one thing that,
He cannot stand,
And this is when they meow.

All the other wolves,
Howl and bark,
Sometimes in the daylight,
But mostly when it’s dark,
His mostly talk,
When the sun is up,
And each time they meow,
He wishes they’d just shut up.

*************************

Strangely enough,
The pack is content,
You’d think they’d be upset,
But they’ve got a silver lining,
Because to them,
Their master is in debt,
They’re spoiled rotten,
And they’ll never let what he did to them,
Be forgotten.

I Sit Here Contemplating……….

What if people looked to their holy bible,
For their sole means of survival,
Instead of giving up,
When on a stroke of bad luck?

What if grass grew pink,
And with lots of kinks,
Would the animals still want it,
For their main cuisine,
If it were not straight and green?

What if there was no sun,
And there had been none,
Ever since the world had begun,
Would there still be such a thing,
As the dark being frightening?

What if people could fly like birds,
But it was normal not absurd,
Would airplanes still have been invented,
Or the idea not have even been presented?

What if the weather were more even,
And there was no such thing as seasons,
If that were so,
Would Earth be mild, hot, or cold?

What if people were not progressive,
And didn’t desire things impressive,
Would we regress back in time,
And if so,
What exactly would be on the line?

What if the pants of a liar,
Truly did catch on fire,
Would the world turn into a great big blazing pit,
Because it would catch everything around it?

What if everyone got along,
And stood united and strong,
Would the world be one big affair,
Or would people still form pairs?

What if the world were colorblind,
And colors had never been defined,
Would it become less challenging to choose,
Things like clothing and shoes,
And could said articles,
Still reflect one’s personality and mood?

What if more people would fight,
For what they know is right,
Instead of following easy street,
Though they know it ends in defeat?

What if coming home,
Were a better option than to roam,
If people were comfortable,
Sticking to their roots,
Would this not prevent,
Quite a bit of disputes?

What if blue did not mean sad,
And red did not mean mad,
Could anything else describe,
These emotions to which our brains subscribe?

What if money,
Wasn’t everyone’s honey,
If it had never been invented,
Would the world be less demented and tormented?

Ocean Drama

Wow that’s really,
Beyond belief!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

Rolling his eyes,
At the fishie,
The coral reef,
Asked hey what’s up,
And could you please,
Get to the point already.

You remember that blue whale,
Who went to Yale?
Well he just put up a sign,
Saying our Ocean,
Is for sale!

You don’t say!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
Well thanks anyway!
For ruining,
A delightful day!

Yes way!
I do say!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

All ears now,
The coral reef,
Said to the fishie,
What shall we do?
I don’t want to live,
Owned like it’s a zoo!

I guess it’s up to,
Me and you!
We must save the day!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
With some dismay.

I’ll think on it,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
We must act quick!
If our plans,
Are to be,
Worth a lick!

So the fishie,
And the coral reef,
Thought and thought,
Hoping that in the meantime,
Their Ocean,
Would not get bought.

Time is running out!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
That blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Just swam by,
With a stingray,
Who assured him,
He could pay!

Oh please help!
The coral reef prayed,
To the Mermaid God,
Whose name was Maud.

Cross your fins,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
That legal papers,
Do not begin!

What about if we,
Invite them both for tea?
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
We can use the cafe,
At the bottom of the sea!

Yes! Yes! That’s an impressive idea!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
Spelled tea and tortilla,
If it changes their minds,
We are not committing a crime!

I’ll go and make arrangements,
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
And come right back,
When I’ve planned the whole entertainment.

I’ll be right here,
Waiting to hear,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie.

Ok! Ok!
Have a splendid,
Rest of your day!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef,
While waving a fin,
And swimming away.

Only two days had passed,
When the fishie came back,
My that was fast!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie.

The cafe,
At the bottom of the sea,
Is willing to play host,
To avoid tragedy!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

We must hail,
That blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
And invite the stingray and him,
To go for a swim!

Together they called on Maud,
Who summoned the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Now we must hope,
That it’s a short wait,
For him to answer the God,
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

The Mermaid God Maud,
Sent an answer straight away,
They’d meet the fishie there,
Tomorrow at noon,
So he’d best go and prepare.

Slap me five,
And I wish you luck,
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
For it’s up to you,
To be sure our plans don’t fall through.

Away he went,
With little less than a day,
Before the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
And his client the stingray,
Would eat the tea and tortilla,
Spelled by the Mermaid God Maud.

Around about eleven,
The blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Swam by the coral reef,
The stingray following close behind,
And both of them,
Seemed eager to dine.

Soon they were out of sight,
Headed to the Ocean’s bottoms,
And the coral reef,
Hoped the fishie,
Was able to carry out the plans,
In a way that went awesome.

Far far down,
On the Ocean Floor,
The cafe proprietor,
Prepared tea and tortillas,
And before the guests arrived,
The spell sent by Maud,
The Mermaid God,
Was tucked inside.

Welcome! Welcome! Greeted the fishie,
To the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
And his client the stingray.

Continued he hotly,
I hear some changes,
Are being arranged!
Tell me about,
Your plan to exchange hands,
And how you want to replace dear Maud,
With this here fraud!

The speech was addressed,
To the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
And at the end a pointed look given,
To the stingray,
Neither of whom,
Seemed to know what to say.

So they swam rapidly,
For the door,
But the proprietor,
Had locked it long before,
Said he to everyone,
Let’s sit and partake,
Of what I’ve worked hard to prepare,
And talk about this,
Rather than throw these fits.

Plates and cups were passed around,
With little red dots,
On the ones meant,
To change the guest’s minds and hearts,
And here the fishie said,
Let’s first take time to drink and devour,
It sounded polite and accommodating,
But was really meant to give time,
For the spell to work its power.

It wasn’t long before the blue whale,
Who went to Yale,
Was followed calmly out the door,
By his ex client the stingray,
Neither one remembering,
What they had come there for.

They had no memories,
From the past few weeks,
This had been assured by Maud,
When she was asked to seek,
The best sort of spell,
To save all who call the ocean home,
From a living hell.

It’s done! It’s done!
We’re safe and can still have fun!
Said the fishie,
To the coral reef.

Wow that’s really,
A relief!
Said the coral reef,
To the fishie,
That could have been,
Such a disaster,
But now it doesn’t matter,
And at that they heard in the distance,
The Mermaid God’s silky laughter.

How To Make Santa Angry

A polar bear,

Without a care,

Was skating mindlessly across the ice,

Thinking about a steaming bowl of something nice,

When down swooped a pigeon,

Who tried to get him to join up,

With some cultish religion.

He turned quickly around,

To get away,

From that awful sound,

And that’s when he heard,

The most welcome noise,

As it ran past him,

So swiftly it was blurred.

It was his good friend,

Elvis Elf,

The one he cared most for,

Besides himself,

And he was singing a version,

Of Jingle Bells,

That would have had Mr. Pigeon,

Saying he was doomed to the Hells.

“Peter White”,

Said Elvis,

When he was close enough to be heard,

“I dare you to help me make Old Santy mad,

Let’s make this song of mine,

A new North Pole Christmas fad”!

And there Elvis began to sing:

“Jingle Bells,

Mr. Santa’s balls smell,

And I wish he’d go away”……….

Laughing,

But at the same time horrified,

He agreed,

To cooperate,

I’ll make it known here,

That this polar bear,

Had a personality snare,

That prevented him,

From turning down a dare.

So the two put their heads together,

To plan what might be best,

As the elf had a vendetta,

With Mr. Santa,

To get off his chest,

And of course the bear,

Was excited to prove,

He was not too pussy,

To perform such a measly dare.

It took some doing,

But their brains finally did figure out,

A way to easily go about,

Making the wild tune,

Something all the North Pole’s peoples,

Would willingly shout.

Old Rudy was taken,

To a cabin long forsaken,

Peter stood watch,

To be sure he got,

The best possible care,

And to make sure,

If any others came by,

His roar would give them,

A gigantic scare.

Elvis distributed a bulletin,

With the lyrics of his shocking song,

And advising,

If they wanted their lead deer back,

They would have it learned,

By the time dawn cracks,

A fortnight from now,

And at the end was written a post script,

Warning if they breathed a word to the Head Man,

They risked being whipped.

It was a different sort of missive,

That got delivered,

To Old Santy and his wife,

It started out “Dear Sir and Ma’am”,

And ended with,

“If you’re not there,

It will cut through our hearts like a knife,

Love and kisses,

Signed,

Your Faithful Elves”.

All day every day rehearsals were held,

Meeting in little groups,

To keep the Boss from finding out,

Yes it would be a most unwelcome time,

For him to start nosing about.

With a foreboding feeling,

All learned each and every line,

And before they knew,

It was time to assemble,

In front of the grove of pines.

The morning of the singing,

Turned out bright and sunny,

And not knowing the truth,

Both Clause’s put on cheery finery,

So they would look their best,

When they went to see,

What pleasures were planned for them,

By these little darlings,

Who barely came up to their knees.

When they pulled up to the pine grove,

Things were very quiet,

So much so,

That against all the brightness and snow,

It seemed almost eerie.

There before them sat,

Rows and rows of elves,

Still and silent as the ones,

Who sit upon your shelves.

In just a moment,

Elvis stepped up to the sleigh,

“Now out you get you two,

And follow me this way”,

He said sans a greeting,

Then walked off towards the special seating.

Soon the Jolly Man and his woman,

Were settled in to watch,

“How blessed we are”,

Whispered He to Her,

But how fast this changed,

To “Let’s get ourselves the fuck out of here”!

When at Elvis’s urging,

All those threatened elves began to sing.

“Jingle Bells,

Mr. Santa’s balls smell,

And I wish he’d go away”……….

And then from around the corner,

Darted the red-nosed reindeer,

For whom during the past two weeks,

The Clause’s had lived in fear,

Of never seeing again,

And he proceeded to tell them all,

About the how’s and why’s,

Of his sudden kidnapping.

Meanwhile the song was coming to an end:

“Jingle all the way,

Oh it’s fun to take and hide,

The one who leads the Sleigh”……….

In Elvis’s eyes,

Things were at long last even,

Between him and the Big Man,

Tit for tat,

After last Christmas’s embarrassment,

He had finally taken a stand.

Oh though,

What an oops this was on his part!

To assume all would resume,

Business as usual,

After that knife he just purposely thrust,

Straight through Santa’s heart.

He thought himself high and mighty,

But Santa was just waiting,

For him to go night-nighty,

Then with a little Christmas Land Magic,

Elvis was modified,

Into a figure most tragic.

When he awoke,

A monster stared back from his mirror,

And as the day wore on,

The fact it was no joke,

Became increasingly clearer.

He was then banished,

To guard the North Pole’s secret entrance,

Their own abominable snowman,

Who walks with a limp,

And a candy cane club,

Being deemed unpardonable,

By both the Clause’s,

For certain there’s nothing,

That can cure this curse.

Bandit Broom’s Emergency, Halloween Season, Year 2020

I tumbled down from the sky,

Laughing and twirling,

And causing her skirts to go twirling.

Get fucked up things must,

And so of course,

Then came a great gust,

I felt her slip,

And then completely lose her grip.

Into a ditch below,

Is where she did go,

Now,

She being my witch,

I would have followed her there,

But the night was black as pitch,

And with the wind,

Pushing to and fro,

I was soon in despair.

By and by,

It will be Halloween,

And the veil between,

Grows thinner by the hour,

We must find,

That for whence we came,

Or we shall be devoured.

Eaten alive,

By The Dark Horned One,

Who cast the spell,

Because he wants my witch,

To be his bride in Hell.

It took me precious hours,

Sweeping the ground,

Using my bristles,

Like the nose of a hound,

But at last she’s been found.

Unconscious!

Losing her would make me nauseous,

So I must be cautious,

But let’s be honest,

Waking her too soon would seem monstrous,

Though if I wait,

The results could be disastrous.

Just thinking of her,

As the She-Devil,

Who resides with Lucifer,

In his lair downstairs,

Enraged me so,

That I saw stars,

So I did a little half-somersault,

And then stepped side to side,

So as my handle was tapping,

Into her hide.

With a few taps she awoke,

And urgently we spoke,

Hasty decisions must be made,

So we prayed,

We’d be unafraid,

To do whatever needs must,

That would cause the Head Demon’s plans to turn bust.

Motivation was strong,

We must prove him wrong,

It could and would be found,

The Purple Poison Spider,

For which we had set out after.

We made it through the veil but just barely,

Finally onto the side,

Where the spirits reside,

Now the real challenge begins,

We’ve got to grab the Spider,

And cross back over,

Then deliver it to Lucifer,

Or my witch’s life is as good as over.

I landed us swiftly,

And my witch jumped off easily,

I’d search high,

And she’d search low,

So I took to the sky,

While she hunted below.

It appears we were expected,

As even still,

It almost escaped us,

It snuck up behind her,

To go in for the kill,

But luck was on our side,

And I was able to land vertical,

Before it could hide.

I gave it a sweep,

Hard enough,

To push it away a few feet,

And hearing the commotion,

My witch turned around,

And lightning fast cast a charm,

Freezing it to the ground.

We had a quick consultation,

Would we make it back in time,

To cross back over without struggle?

Or would we encounter trouble?

It was iffy,

But with no other options,

We were off in a jiffy.

We had not quite an hour,

Before the veil would start to thicken,

And as the minutes ticked on by,

She kept toes and fingers crossed,

As her heartbeat began to quicken.

With just four minutes left to spare,

We made it out of there,

Then stopped to catch our breath,

And be certain that the Purple Poison Spider,

Was yet stuck for safekeeping in her hair.

Oh great relief!

The mission’s end was near,

All that was left,

Was the handoff to the Devil,

He’d get his much sought after Spider,

And I could keep Her.

Indeed!

He had a look of angry surprise,

When he saw our prize,

I’ll laugh over it forever,

He really thought he’d acquire my witch,

But you see,

She’s MY bitch,

And I’d undertake,

Another such endeavor,

To put His evil ass in its place,

And keep a smile on her face.

What In The HELL?

One day,

Out of the blue,

Two tiny marks were noticed,

Upon a thumb,

“Where the fuck,

Did these come from”!?

Was the thought,

Until the mind,

Was practically numb.

Little brownish red dots,

That looked a lot like tiny birthmarks,

Why were they,

Never noticed before?

They couldn’t be recent

But they weren’t remembered,

As being there,

Just a year or two before.

Into the head came a notion,

Was this proof of past lives?

Once someone had said,

The fear of certain fanged brutes,

Was likely due to being bitten,

While alive,

In another lifetime,

And this is why,

The feeling of panic,

While in their presence,

Never subsided,

No matter how much,

Time had elapsed.

In theory,

Fang marks,

Are only made,

By things infected by dark,

But are they really polluted?

Because after all,

They had ancestors once,

On Noah’s Ark.

There was strong suspicion that they might,

Be from a snake bite,

There was,

After all,

The infliction of a phobia,

But was that all paranoia?

Or was that fear founded by an incident,

And therefore legitimate?

Though there are tons of creatures,

Sporting fangs,

Not all result,

In the night terrors,

For instance,

It’s known a house cat,

Would not do that,

But who’s to say,

They weren’t wandering in the jungle,

And met head on,

By a lion?

But oh yes,

That jungle beast’s mouth,

Would be too big to leave these marks,

That little kitty though,

Righto! – that one’s a maybe……………

At one point in the past,

Could there have been a Mer,

Who played in ponds,

And swam in seas?

So many creepy critters,

Occupy these places,

And many are with,

Tiny fanged faces,

Yes this one is actually,

A real possibility……………

Very well,

I’ll admit there is no way here,

To be totally and absolutely sure,

Just the same,

These marks are pointing favorably,

Toward this being right,

It’s so strange they seemed to surface,

Pretty much overnight,

Even so I think it’s clear,

These marks were put,

On a former version of a self,

By the object of their deepest fear.

Before

What is done,

And what should be done,

Too many times,

Are two different things.

Life at this time,

Has lost its shine,

Do people’s dirty little tricks,

Too make your stomach sick?

Let us rewind,

Hundreds of years,

So as to get away,

From so many vile liberal minds.

I’ve been known to wonder,

Why wasn’t I born,

Way back when?

Eventually though,

It’s concluded,

That I was,

But then,

Like everyone does,

I was reincarnated,

Time and again,

Until now here I am,

Part of this modern world,

That’s congested with hatred.

How many previous,

Lives did I lead?

What did I get up to?

And did I succeed?

Does that even matter?

To these I’ve no answer.

I’m sure there were many,

Some in the times when being rich,

Required barely more than a penny,

And other souls were so far off,

That a walk to visit neighbors,

Would wear a hole in one’s socks.

I hereby suggest someone,

Invent a spell,

That can take a body back,

To when things were simple,

To when for the most part,

Society was civil,

Rather than sinful.

I beg of you,

Let me go back,

To whenever it was,

That my first life was lived,

Modern conveniences be damned,

The peace would more than make up,

For what I would lack.