Ways

He traveled the country by blue high-ways
They saw the world on these uncharted by-ways

All the music in the world was jazz
The notes floated up and up sky-ways

Further down south the language got rougher
The people tended to do things “my-ways”

The preacher screams the word of the Lord
Everything has to be done in pie in the sky-ways

The world had no answers for either of them
So they looked it up and tried to define ways

He couldn’t measure his life in length, so to
The scale he went to find how much his mind weighs

“Acosta rubio!” His parents yelled late at night
The blond boy rolled up in shame and slept in shy-ways

Ways

Jonathan Acosta-Rubio

New Orleans, United States

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