From the tallest mast to the tallest tree,
my words won't be seen from land or sea.

They won't strike fear into the bravest heart,
challenge the mind, or a discussion start.

But this ramshackle collection of word and rhyme,
has subtleties and candor within its design.

Its message is 3 fold, direct at your heart.
First, to the void that's left when we part.

Second, I dedicate to the tone of your skin.

Third to your returning hand and the feeling within.

Perched on my windowsill,
I can remember it still.

Sounds of lawns being mowed
and the great north road.

I wandered back then;
Where were they bound?

Why would they pass—
such a wonderful town.

Still, I look back and smile,
from where I am now.

All we knew back then—
was this Midlands Town.

The friendships we made;
the bridge where we played.

We would boast of the dens;
we built with our friends.

The dens have all gone,
and friends have moved on

to where they reside,
in towns far and wide.

But one thing that we share,
that nothing compares.

The sights and the sound,
of this Midlands Town.

let the covers,
hide my face.
an impostor,
take my place

to all parties involved
all maneuvers on hold
Raise the white flag
cease to resist.

draw down the blinds
wave away the masses.
stop the world for the day
let it slip from its axis.


on the street below
there'll be no show.
no masquerade
no ticker tape parade.

no background noise,
no constant hum
no hustle or  bustle,
no beating drum.

The Washington mayor
said there was nothing to do,
only thoughts and prayers
we can offer to you.

as lights flashed blue,
and lights flashed red,
their souls are sleeping
on the riverbed.

while the CEO announced
to family and friends,
that his only regret
were the downward trends.

Casually dressed
to allay their fears,
he hoped his words
would dry their tears.