Unkempt hair, braided locks....

Twilight has peaked as the wraps are packed,
Ready to travel with baggage to be dropped;
Empty heads and heavy souls carry crying hearts; popcorn anyone?
Await the call while dreading the voice; I’d like mine with a cone;

A zeppelin o’ lead wrote misty mountain top and a medley to adore,
Green bottoms on blue tops around loopy bananas; are we really that sore?
Wet clothes, drenched bodies out glows a warm silence
Listen carefully for the death like mist, music to thy aching eyes;

There in the bottom of a ravine, a rainbow of man’s unholiness
I search for a better me though reveling in it's murkiness;
The Trojans held their heads high only to be let down by a wooden horse
Irony, the black and the white of this play, wonder if god’s got it any worse;

If I could fall and not gasp for air, play my role and not be a farce,
Everythings free, and yet we dance to the tunes of green paper with a dead face;
Masks are the condoms today, not a deterrent but a disguise for the devil within,
A destination is earmarked, a path graveled, not for a walk or a sojourn but to tar I reckon;

Just like her I too shall be gone, A thousand questions to the shadows of the morn’
Unanswered forever, like wrinkles at 70 while the threads are sewn.