Glimpse of the Mighty Oak


Written by Tim s Poma

Finally I have awaken from my nightmare
Only to Find I’m still in my bad dreams
I awoke again, under this mighty oak,
Drenched in sweat I was forced to take an oath
They said this would be best for us both
So as I was pledging allegiance to the flag
They were selling my beauty to porno mags
It was then I could see that there stars were my disease
It got so bad the oak tree I was under got up and leaves
As he walked away he said “you’re close to death,”
“And about to wage a war against his fiery breath.”
As he walked away he swayed in the breeze
Reminding me I was still under that old tree
It was just another dream created on there screen.
I was on the world’s stage and in books on every page
So quickly I made haste with no time to waste
And I started to dig deeper inside of my body
First I hit something clever and then I found a lever
It was light as a feather, so down to my soul I went
As that feather it turned into an elevator made of cement
The light shined in at me and then I saw it was me
I was in a glass house, a fun house of mirrors
Suddenly all my ideas became so clear
Some good, some bad and most indifferent
But all the rest were lost in their reflection
Till I noticed the ball point pen, it was clinched
In my fist and I wrought with my wrist
As I signed my final decree into the book
Just then the doors opened and they gave me a look
At my internal, infinite soul, my naivety and divinity
Sleeping intertwined with the roots under that mighty oak tree.

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