1971
Poetry
by Michael F. Nyiri
"The Poignant Ballad of the Roving Hippie"
With Dusty boots he treads the paths of malice. His hands reach out but no one knows he's there. He looks around for peace and truth But never finds it. They only tell him he should cut his hair. He's a roving hippie-- keeps the love beads dangling With the cross upon his chest Knows the answers to the questions -- Keeps his mouth shut knowing what is best. The light turns green he steps across the street. His feet turn round and nothing greets his gaze. He wants to be a friend But cannot be loved, As long as no one looks through their deep haze. He's a roving hippie -- tries communication with the others But short circuits all the wires Makes a nuisance for he fails to meet Approval with establishmentarian liars. His home was fine but not for his existence. Yet everywhere he goes they want him back. He strives for love and grace But they have fled him. He cannot help but think he's off the track. Sing fa la la or ho de ho ho. Please some body tell me where to go. They say Tareyton filters taste right like a cigarette should Clean your floors with ammonia that's good Cleanse your breath with Dentyne chewing gum Do what you like but stop being a bum.
copyright 2001 by Michael F. Nyiri
ElectricPoetry
AllThingsMike