up, up, and away.

light explodes in your hands,

skeletal teeth chatter in the depth of these lands.

the doorway you've reached,

is nothing they could have teached.

if you let your glasses rest upon your nose.

there isn't any telling which way the scribble goes.

what can you tell me about monday,

it nurses the rhymes where the birds find a way to stay.

when the sun met the moon.

she wept at noon.

that's when the light exploded in your hands.

skeletal teeth will never chatter through those lands.

closed is the doorway you once reached.

it's everything they should have teached.

and still, your glasses rested upon your nose.

you should have known the way the scribble always goes.

i could have told you about monday...

the birds flew the rhymes straight away, far from the kind that stay.

when the moon saw the sun,

he knew his work was done.