On Mud pies and puddles
I remember the smell of mud pies in an asphalt puddle Toes snuggling in the green, green grass An ant here and there That was the day I inked-in the lines. No more scratching out. No more waiting around for that long-gone miracle. After all, there's a new dream just around the corner scampering into the cacaphony, Wrapped in new minted leaves, gh the cacaphony,