The best laid plans are never the expectation fully realized
Even on their best day
In no way
Is the plan better than the reality walked out
Walk about
Try it out
There is a reason to sometimes cry it out
Because life is not memory
And plan is not reality
When you grow the tree
Which is technically
Some still, sacrificed, dead seed
You had to put it in the ground
Let it do what it do
With no one else around
No likes on Facebook
No Tweets
No Gram
No outside air in which to go H.A.M.
No mosquitos or birds
Just dreams and words
Sometimes you come out slow
But that is what it is like to grow
Your mountaintop gives a great view
But only to those up there with you
Some folks still got climbin’ to do
I’m not not that mountain there
I’m climbing up my own set of stairs
Graveled up
To level up
Tears sometimes
Go with the mishmashed rhymes
Storytellin’ on my soul
Breathing outside air
Fighting off old trolls
I plan, God laughs, then we take a stroll
Out in the outside air
