For seven weeks I went on a journey

So lonely the path

So consumed with fears and worry

Aware of what was going on

But nothing I did made the sequence of events put on a hurry

Like that moment in time was so precious

Like the spur of the moment be

We think of ourselves are we

Back then I was so far from the star

The lid so tightly concealing the jar

That I started to get constipated

Like I really had to go

The bowel was bound to blow

Exposing secrets he didn’t deserve to know

I could feel everything burst out at the airport

Another bucket list

In the sand I had to let go

Was in the prettiest place in the world

But this Jasmine in that ground

Couldn’t grow.