All formats out the window
meter and rhyme forgotten
no need for pretty words
How they sound together
is not the point

What I am striving for
is a solid steel rail
of a thought
Something clean and
maybe more than a little cold

Understand, I sympathize
Even I don't want to be reminded
every second of every day
But, truth be told
I sense a real lack of it

And, the thing is
It has its own beauty
It is real
in the sense of that word
that holds actual power

How you perceive this
is your responsibility
It cannot be handed to you
All I can say is go outside
on a clear, dark night


and look up