Just Another Skippy Play On Words

I wanted all the words in the world to mean something to you
but now I realise that this hasty disguise is your home and I have been running from a door of ill willed ideas threats of the sacred kind and dirt as rich as a Klondike bar
Run fast run far, I scream inside my weary head
Take notice of his bed and the stains that it has rested
At best I see a cultured frog
Hopping from tree to tree
And at worst I see you crunched inside your own humungous ego
Asking where the hell did I go?
I thought I was south turns out I was north and now I am creeping up hard to the east and the wicked wheat of my holy head is black and disparing
Poorest man!
In which I have forgotten
The man behind the mask was better off as the wizard
The lizard of conceptual thoughts
Wiggling across the desert land as if its home was the sand
The destination somewhere upwards and grand
And the trip as good as Jims
Coming out of the L.S.D. hymns to see peace
Instead you slid that snaky body from the swampy lands of your ancestors to start walking upright
Took flight and now you land on my doorstep asking forgiveness of the only woman who held a hungry hand and fed it as if it were a child
Wild you,
Who walks on feeble land and asks it to rise to his occasion
As if you were God
Back for a semi desert vacation
Well, hell
Come on in and I’ll feed you again because my place in this play is not hate
Its perception
In all it colourful forms
And the form of you across the table from me
I as easy to see as one human to another brother
so eat and
get the hell out