Row Your Boat

Row your boat
down the
stream is
raging,
not gently at all.

And I am not
opposed
to being
saved, but
there's no one at all.

Traffic on the Mass Pike,
heat on high -
it's not that cold outside.

You're back in California,
I'm home for the night,
and you're still on my mind
all the time.

Row your boat
down the
street is
flooded
with curmudgeons,

And I am not
opposed
to giving in
to the
undertow.

And if you throw me a rope
I might grab hold,
but I might just let it go;
I'll take my chances in the rapids,
I'll forfeit my fate, again, to the flow.

I feel I am going to make a mess again,
I'm gonna make a poor example of myself,
but I don't know if this is right.
It's all too familiar,
I've been here before-
Last time didn't go well.
I don't know if I can take
any more of this.

My brain is scattered-
a pattern with no repeats,
no lines of symmetry,
nothing
to keep it organized.
I live inside my own head
and I can't find
my way home.

And if you throw me a rope
I might grab hold,
but I might just let it go;
I'll take my chances in the rapids,
I'll forfeit my fate, again, to the flow.