The young lady sits, mascara running
As she gazes into her cup of tea.
Alone in the woods,
Resting upon an old and forgotten arm chair

She thinks of her place in the world,
Of the horrors that it is plagued with.
Dreaming of a better day
Without the hate and despair

She knows it will never come,
And so do the grey winged butterflies
That flutter by. But they don’t care
So long as they can fly.
---

The barren trees, roots topped with dirt,
Watch over their little girl.
They cannot see, but they feel her presence;
The weight of her black buckled shoe upon the soil.

Unable to think, they do not see the world
In the black and white way of her striped leggings,
They know nothing of the wars and violence,
Only of their precious child.

Surrounded by it all
Wishing we could be free.
Free from having to flee
Free from the suffering of the greed.

Every day we wake, there is something new,
Another round of death for humanity
Be it the end of a celebrity’s sanity,
Be it a destructive cry of nature’s lament.

As time goes on, everything falls.
We are all here now, but forever it will not be.
Living out every moment we can is our own immortality.
Living out our lives, for all things will eventually disappear.

Death and destruction follow the human race, it is our way.
We build to break and love to hate.
But maybe this is how it is meant to be in the days before we’re at that gate.
But maybe someday our end will be for the best.

The tiles on the wall never change,
I've counted them all over again.
The number remains the same.

They are white like the warm milk of a baby's bottle,
And as square as any boring old tile before.
Some are cracked like I. Some are whole.

The cracks stay the same, and the paint doesn't change.
They are just here to exist. Here to please the eye.

They serve no real purpose yet tonight and tomorrow
And every day before and after, they are my world.

Wars are fought and people are lost.
Babies are born and grandmas die.
But this means nothing to someone who had nothing.

The world moves on, leaving us behind.
Time stands still as we watch it go.

The second hand flies, the minute hand close behind.
Hours tick by, days are gone in a blur.
Time never stops, just leaves us behind.

No one sees us, we keep to the shadows.
They walk past, not a care in the world.
At their hand, we are frozen in reality.

Tomorrow will come, but we will not know.
We remain on our own, without someone to hold,
living out our sentence, trapped in the clock of eternity.

A rekindling of an old friendship
One many years forgotten
Begin with but a word; an image.
Hello.

Memories from a time removed
Flood back into reality
Do you remember the orange hat?
I do.

Let us talk and be merry
A moment to reconnect
Swap our tales and woes as we go.
I see.

Let’s get that beer, so to speak
Embrace this night
And all the ones we missed.
Why not.