One life is not just one

infact its a myriad of some

memories that are strung

on a line thats highly rung

 

its a constant exploration

to light deeper illumination

taking one across nations

serving off bleary obligations

 

the wants, the needs, the haves

the shoulds, the coulds, the woulds

they never tire of accusations

needling the weary permutations

 

for though we wish joyfuls

we are bound by hopefuls

that want a world of ours

set inset by dream amours

 

but in tomes of our dreams

are clear divisions made

breaking life into greens

comes handy a spade

 

inner peace is in the wanting

giving way to all the ranting

what no bundle can buy

is the self-pride of the rye

 

armed with steady intuition

its time to slay the demon

and find the elusive heaven

at the bend of twenty-seven!