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.