I Sing Myself

Song of Myself
Tribute
I preach to you to sing myself.
I feel the good in me shared with you.
God flows like a river,
From you to me.

I am scared to die,
Yet, I am terrified to live so long.

What is wisest, cleanest, happiest, nearest is me.
Me is giving what I have to those who don't,
I am gracious,
Heavenly in my actions,
True to my possessions and myself.

My music plays to me it, calls to me in my sleep,
Asking questions of verse I cannot answer,
Until I understand the chorus, of wonderful tangible words,
I can only imagine the pain this song represents.

Music accepts my understanding,
Though it does not expect anything.

The grass is of no value to me,
Cars, cement, and tall steel buildings are more pleasing to my eyes.
There is complexity in nature,
As in life.

My life is made of simple things,
Listen, work, eat, sleep.
Repeat.

My bed is hard in the rough, soft in the ease,
In contrast, my pillow soaks my sorrows and amplifies my triumphs.
Light shines in my window,
Pain piercing my headache,
Brightness at the beginning of my day.

So difficult to those unwilling to try,
Yet, second nature to those who learn.
This computer points the direction of civilization,
Secretly eating all the time,
Create, talk, chat, meet, research is that.
That which consumes the children,


I look to the shopping malls to find my disgust,
Creativity is no longer created,
It is bought,
And distributed,
And manipulated to what a select few decide it to be.
For me, I do not need shopping malls.

I am scared for the masses they know not which way to wander,
I could teach them but I won't,
They must learn it for themselves.

What is the busy little hummingbird?
Swinging back and forth in the wind,
I have to tried to work this hard,
But, I have not the will.

11 am and I am,
Still asleep on the couch, For a great mind desires a great sleep.

Often times a wander restlessly in the night searching for meaning, explanation, and truth
These do not show themselves openly.
I must look under the rocks, behind the trees, and in my neighbor's garden.

I do believe in God,
Therefore, I am the luckiest.

Dwelling over changing yourself is wrong,
Stop, be you.
Truth is found in what you like, not what you are like,
This principle applies to love, happiness, and friendship.

I have sung to you about myself,
For I in you am, as you in I are, the greatest.