Pleasant trip, despite the crow.
I'd have spun just to let you know.
Wasn't cramped or
badly padded.
Couldn't see much in the air below.
They begin and fly in low.
You'd never think how they slip the flow.
Some resemble
remodeled symbols.
Pull a lever, they begin to glow.
But when we jumped out along the back row
after Captain commanded "Go!"
all had vanished.
Had we been banished
to a bigger and unseen foe?
Readers, friends - if out to this way you blow,
raise your voices, holler out "Yo!"
I'm the man you called your foe.
We were all in the rooms below.
Worked the kitchen
on the mission
to the globe that never ceased to glow.
We had dragged the slag in tow
but it had served to arrest the flow.
Said I'd bark when
we hit the target.
When we reached it I forgot to crow.
So, if you meet me within the hollow,
will we each in the other know?
You can find me
where lurk behind me
shades of those who were first to go.
Twenty ninety something, second row.
In the margin, my name is Yo.
Isn't much left in the flow,
though I grab them as by they blow.
Did they seed in
ancient Eden?
Did they dignify Creation's glow?
What I find I place below
from large to small in an ordered row.
For protection
they meet inspection.
Those that don't are given to the foe.
It's much the same sort of things we hallow.
I don’t feign or pretend to know
why I'd rather
prefer to gather
things to take with me where I go.
All I have is tied up in a bow.
All I have, I am. I am Yo.
All I have is more than what I know.
All I have, I am. I am Yo.
All I have, I am. I am Yo.
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