Poem-A-Day: Day 497

Catch 22

I seem nervous
and the world rushing through time, 
yes, a long time
is a place where I surrender. 
It's not hard,
And worldly goods
chase sorry things.

Life is a dream cried on shoulder;
the great blue surrender to goods.

I surrender in my heart,
no catch 22,
and all my misdemeanour 
is a place where it's not hard to give,
a place where my heart,
catch 22,
and all my goods I give.