Garden of Poetry

 
What else can I be
Through eternity?
I am only me.
Where else can I flee?
Shall I make a run
To the sun,
To the source of the pun,
And erase my memory, take away my me and you -
Abracadabra, become something new,
Hum, hum, hum,
Come apart, part the sum?

Buddha, I am growing old.
Turn my brain to solid gold,
So I can see
Eventually,
Peer through a clouded why
Until I
Can’t feel anymore,
And wash ashore.

~ Daniel F Mitchell