Just For You Poetry

Those days of No! Serious can wait
I´m young don’t care having fun,
those days of flowers San Francisco.

Those days of Beatles and of Stones
Dylan protesting the killing the bomb,
with acoustic Beaz not conforming.

Those days of flairs, hair, circled specs,
Vietnam Napalm and the Eagle landed,
those days of Hendrix forehead banded.

Those days of reach out I’ll be there,
there was no need to say you love me
the tops and dusty those days of song.

The band was led by sergeant pepper
the Welsh girl said those were the days,
those days of youth those days of mine.

Those days of psychedelic patterns
when he was called the mellow yellow man,
that sunshine Donavan superman.

Those days of waiters bringing trays
in harder humming rooms of paler white,
and I can carry him, his brother sang that night.

Those days of Ba, Ba, Barbara Anne
from the boys that lived by the beach, then
Luther´s death, because of what he preached.

Those crazy hazy mixed up sixties days
those days of youth those days of mine
when a band of robbers robbed the train
and the Moody´s satin sheets were fine.