Antique shops
Say lonely words.
I and mine
Are but a patch of grass.
A wheat field
Waving like a
Banner of quiet
Sovereignty:
Empty freedom.
There are a thousand houses,
Homes of a hundred thousand persons.
And I am but one.
How stupid am I?
Oh, how stupid and vein.
That I love, that I hate,
I squander and create,
Worry and worry,
And yet there they are.
They are indifferent.
A family of four.
Cheri is the wife,
Tommy the husband
They have two children,
Lidia and Claudia,
They live a suburban life
Barely baptist and certainly content.
Then there's the Trina family,
And the Radells;
And the Baders;
Haynes, Spencers;
O'Connors, Smiths...
And so many others,
And what amazes me
Is that they just exist.
They are just there!
I can go and see them,
Hear them speak,
And I am in no way a part of them.
Oh! How foolish am I!
I should rip it out,
My passion and motivation,
For what is it worth?
Other than to drive me mad and speechless, driven dumb by the rains of life; by a simple kiss, water's blissful kiss, I am taken over with this feeling.
I am nothing, so be it.
I too, love rain.