I don't know the absence of light or dark
There is only the chirp of the alley way clerk
Who serves you your tea and crumpet cakes
Lined with medallions of neon colors
That break when you touch them
Can it be the final hour is upon us?
As these orange fragments of yesteryear
Become old and forgotten and inhumane
I never was young
I never was old
I am what I am
Never done what I was told
Though these were the tellings of man and man's timely rule
And there were many mysteries within that
It is a funny thing
When one believes they need to go to school
Is it the hour or the time or the society which breeds this?
Is it the oranges and the hot milk and the comfort of the bed?
Is it the promises made in between black walls,
That makes us do things that we never would have said?
Funny how these words shape our minds
And yet our actions are nothing at all
Funny how funny a funny man can be
Until the funny man drops
His supposed ball
O'
The great fall
A fast glance across like a lance
Which pierces my mind like a flash
As if love vanished everywhere and not just from me
But from everybody