no title (this one was written sometime after the famous Country Lemonade Box on my head incident)

often smiles are stretched to miles
no hugs lead to mental tugs
yellow helmets protect the sky
water filled rockets try to fly
sonic echoes calm the starry sea
purple swooshes cloud the canopy
little grey boxes neglect the rope
empty skies come spiraling down
sad worried eyes seem to watch
seeming marbles swirl and crash

Marcus