An Oak From Which You Swing By

No sensation in the desensitized

No organization for the organized

Polar opposites keep demonized

By the fires of full thought in a.m. minds. 

I've rocked the rock of the elderly

Grew up childish, now a shell I be

Future is something taunting me

Can I let off the rope, and let it swing?

"Tomorrow's another day."

"Hang in there!" 

You keep telling me...

A run on sentence.. no remedy.

My chucks will kick 

When September leaves

Do not worry

Not far from peace,

So for now, hang by this tree.