The Old book,

Lays upon me,

It’s unnatural language,

Comes to me with ease.

I read a page,

The two, now three.

Learning about,

The history of thee.

I gasp as I read,

Of a battle from the past,

The past of me,

The past of a tree.

A very big tree,

Indeed my sir,

It’s branches stretching,

For miles it seems.

It’s crazy tale,

Of a child in need,

It’s my ancestors, indeed,

My family’s drama,

Oh what commotion.

Because they’re crazy,

Crazy in need,

Of a sneed,

Of feed,

Indeed.

Can you believe,

What it would be,

Like in those ages,

Of no ac,

or electricity.

You couldn’t live,

With your selfish needs,

And your insecurities.

You wouldn’t live,

With me,

With her or she,

With him or he,

Because of

your selfish needs.