We where free falling into nothingness, searching for bliss, just outside of Ft. Bliss.
We sat on that mountain side, chasing the high, and chasing the rhyme.
Time did not mater because we new knew we would live forever, we were Gods controlling our own weather, and to cry was never.
We would spit flows, not caring where they would go, just freeing our souls.
Sitting on the mountain side, chasing the high, and chasing the rhyme.
Reason, was treason, or at least this is what we were believing!
Not knowing that at any giving movement one of us would fall!
Oh God, how I wish, those moments could still persist, but since then I have learned something about bliss.
An ignorant man can go back, a wise man must admit the black, the false faith I once had now I lack!
Sitting on that mountain side, chasing the high, and chasing the rhyme.
But those where the last days of my spring, now I step into the beginnings of my summer fling, wondering now what will life bring.
But I cant help but wonder what would have happened if we would have jumped of the mountain side, would we fly, oh I think not because now I know it was all lies.
So I left with my love child, sometimes I cry sometimes I smile, but in the end its all freestyle.
This is another one of my freestyle poem.......dedicated to Ferndawg, Grizzely, Grumpy, Mucho, and Dave. Some of us have died, and some of have lived, but at least we all new how to let go of the flow! I miss those days, but even if I could go back I would not. Yet in every freestyle verse or poem all of us live on.