Peter Pan Poetry II

 

Peter Pan Poetry II

Friendship is a wide open plain. 

There is no place for a need to run. 

No one is chasing me. People are too absorbed in themselves to notice:

A beauty, a poem, or a song. 

A flower. A treasure. A play for pong. 

At the end of every hill you'll find out anyway. 

No one gives a shit. Unless you can make them feel good.

With your beauty, with a poem or a song. 

With a flower or a treasure, or fucking beer pong in a pool in the Florida Keys in some fucking random conversation that just felt good after feeling depressed for days. 

Every conversation with people I hope to discover I like I hope to find a watering hole of fun and laughter and true friendship. 

That's why when a person runs and falls like an addiction there seems to be no room for flowers. 

Dearest Tinkerbell, you drank my poison so that I could find the nearest watering hole.

But you might find if you walk a little, that you're all better now. 

But all us lost boys are all grown up now. You'd have to be an adult to play like a kid around us.