Can you hear it?

That voice in your head.

It might be suggesting,

That you should be dead.

It might also be wishing,

That you could be wed,

Or it is saying,

You don’t make enough bread.





But look ahead, and heed my warning,

That voice is fear, and very annoying.

It snickers and laughs, and continues toying,

With your emotions, it starts to get boring.





I will be imploring, that you start employing,

A new made up story, of one that’s less worry.

No need to be sorry, I heard that voice too.

But i found a solution, and saw it right through.





See all of the lies, we say to ourselves,

Are simply fears, showing themselves.

They usually come, from trauma of past,

These fears which do guide us, have no reason to last.

See science is finding, a hundred new ways,

To help with this problem, to see brighter days.





I’m too unconventional, I took my own path,

I smoked myself silly, continued to laugh.

But the fear stayed inside me, but helped me to learn,

Stories which were hiding, to be told they did yearn.





It might seem too trippy, or hippy, or fun,

But there was one way, my fears came undone.

It wasn’t in pills, or cannabis plants,

No this was a mushroom, made me sing and dance.





I owe it to thee, little red button,

It glows blue at night, it can’t be forgotten.

It does have it’s dangers, I do not deny,

This is not an advert, for you to just try.





No all that i wish for, this little red button.

Is a chance and a promise, it won’t be forgotten.

It came from the Earth, just like you and me,

More natural than cars, more like birds and bees.





Don’t find it too soon, be patient just wait,

This little red button, will find you, it’s fate.

Look for it in full bloom, as it does flower,

On a night of full moon, extracting it’s power.





Then you might also dance, and forget your worries,

With friends you should take it, and tell of your stories.



We are the New Age, but much like the old,

Our fables and myths, that tribes surely told.



You wonder where God is? God comes from within,

Each person and human, who’s removed their sin.

It’s not in a church, or pastor or pope,

It’s within our gardens, that’s the true hope.



So talk out your stories, so bold as their told.

The sooner the better, for time makes us old.



The best we can do, is help the next gen,

With tools and medicine, to make better men.

Then maybe the violence, will stop overnight,

Make for peace and love, and less of a fright.



It might just be wishful, might even be childish,

But this is my dreamland, and this is my wish:



That little red button, that might just be found,

It’s so full of wonder, yet grows in the ground.

Might just be the answer, to all of this pain,



Then no more of bloodshed, and no more of maim.

No more of faulting, and no more of blame,

Just love and acceptance, as we walk through the flame.

So come with me now, into tomorrow,

Our demons get slain, and we remove our sorrow.



