Dear good friend,
Perhaps acquaintance.
To the masses we pass on a daily basis,
The worn out souls and weary faces
Painted in towers of glass.

Ladies and Gentlemen,
Distinguished guests.
To those indisposed
By inexorable quests.
To the ones that were left
To search for what was right
Till there was nothing left
But memories of light

Blindfolds applied at night.

To the torn shoes,
Blistered feet.
The poverty we choose to greet.
It is pain, vain,
Somewhat plain to mention
That conversation's become outdated.
Sedated, restrained and correlated
To the denizens of a distant past.

We pass the world in silence.
Ignoring blatant acts of violence

Then claim that it is art.

Our body was well worn,
Born, bled then ill informed.
Skin shed
Torn
Dust to adorn a once pristene floor.
Bred to provide countless lives, more.
Martyr to a form it shall never see.
The water flows but cannot know
The extent of its captivity.

In Manolo Blahniks,
While her chair wears her jacket    
And her fingernails play Orpheus                              
   On a cigarette
                         packet,       
                                 
            A cold goddess in stone                
And a flounce of french lace,
     Gravelled footsteps
                            don't lift

Her resting-*****-face.                                    
So I announce
my arrival                      
With an unconfident cough,
                Her eyes still
on the sunset,  
             She tells me to...
                                           ****
                                                   off.

You look beneath each unturned stone
where four leaf clover shrouds the path
To wonder, thinking all alone,
what brought about this aftermath

As daisies clamor ‘bout the field
and dragonflies abandon hope
When orchards passing off their yield
will find it hard to even cope

Lest not a day of future themes
reflect this distance you now feel
For merely but a stack of dreams,
horizon’s light may soon reveal

So take this orchid from its stem,
a small reminder of the past
And question not who follows them
but cherish every foot step cast

Come hold your head up to the sky
as banners wave and bluebirds sing
Extend your hand to passers by,
much more than just a thoughtful thing

For life is but a fleeting friend
not here for very long at all
It’s up to you to just transcend
and rise above before the fall