Simply Selfish

I know a nature
Where I have hands
And eyes to peep
And eyes of perverts
Angling around

Being selfish
None could grow
As old as god, almighty
So as to question
The rules of birth
The errors of living, and
Surprises of death

Preachers preach
Bidders bid
Nice Monday's to come
Nine days
Why don't they
Make up a week?

Music and tears
They get going
So long a distance
However I have
Another reasons
To love a twilight
And a lonely window
And a loner cup of tea
And a missing portrait
Of a living lady

Receding roads
They are my intercepts
Only they listen
When I am awake
In the midst of traitors
They sell me purple
Eyeing my red wild orchids