So lost souls
Of eager youth
With emotions of roaring wonder
And imagery make their way
To the minds ears eyes and stiff tears
Of a heart without a beat

And if those oceans do turn over
And all will be lost with stern grimaces
What will be remembered but with the pages?
A temper tantrum spelled out with smiles
Flickers of brilliance from strangers
A telling tale of tepid youth
A fountain with a boring drought

Though my sheets are cold my
Hands are not and never will be
Fire is my only companion and
The side street and gutter and high ball glass my wife
When the stores close up
The parks open up where nothing
Means everything when your in that part of town

Each stone means a man
And each city a spent life
Every knife coveted in holy blood
Is a baby lost due to selfish love
But you who tells of squeamish angelic love
Atop a field where watery dew sprinkles
With imagery but falsely fragrant doves

What scream do you possess that
Already hasn't been said?
He who possess something truthfully
Possesses nothing
And in praise one squirms
Like the worms underneath ones toes
And though the moon is full
It is hallow to the core
And in heart the wasp wing doth beat
There is no honey for him to keep

A yell a scream a whimper a cry
The burning trees of Christmas are here
Empty hotel with passengers all alone
We are united yet we show action
- all behind closed door -
Made of cold dry stone

Mere material makes me meager poor and sane
Each sleeve who shows their heart
Can hold only themselves to blame

Goodnight to the praised
Say hello to the moon and the stars

When you speak

You all

Seem to speak

The same