The windows of the world are opened wide
Upon the sun-soaked beaches and the tides
That lull the faintly optimistic souls
Who dream away their lives among the coals
Of winter evenings. Dreaming by the fire
Of popularity and wealth; their heart's desire-
to have a little fame in this, their world;
To see their lives before us all unfurled.

They dream their dreams, they  sing their songs.
They ache for things material and dwell upon the wrongs
That have befallen them through circumstance of birth.
They see themselves as queens, but minimize their worth
As helpers, hopers, lovers, dreamers. Choke
Themselves with their demands, but, if they poke
Their heads above the hype can clearly see
Fast tracks to fame are seldom trouble- free.

We are wired for anonymity , yet ..
We jot foolishness on paper in the hope of pack acceptance , we strive for
a rhyme , tell of our fears on a lark then fire machine guns into the dark
We choose honor in the light but in the lonely night we just don't give
a **** , we jam another magazine and fire at will without giving a **** who we hit , that's the split second home where mans consciousness truly lives* ...

Raindrops explode on the impacted soil;
Dryer, so much dryer, so much harder than I thought.
One drop here and there and scars appear on the floury surface.
No wind today and the arrows find their mark
Again
And again
Until a surface pooling forms:
But nothing more.

Relentless ramrod shafts pound the ground
And its substance shifts and softens to absorb the blows
And take what nourishment it can.
Hardened against extremes it struggles
To release the tension of the grains that cling
To one another.
The rain ceases. It leaves and
In private
The earth allows some of the moisture to soak through.
Like a hard heart softening at the sight of compassionate tears -
Like the gruff response that guards an open heart.

Part 1

Formal dress or speech
maybe  for Mal ;
Hiding ill-intent.

part 2

Casual becomes causal
if 'u' can slip out of place.